Arise O Youth
by NoNameAvailable Bis
Summary: For more than two hundred years, Thors Military Academy has guided Erebonia's finest on their journey to adulthood. But for the teens of class VII, it wouldn't be long before that road took an unexpected turn. A ToCS Novelization, seen through the eyes of its many protagonists.
1. Prologue (Olivert)

" _Never before entering Thors did I realize that things, great things even, could be expected of me. After having been mostly ignored during my childhood, that was an exciting and terrifying prospect in equal measure."-_ Olivert Reise Arnor, _Memoirs of a debaucherous prince_ (unfinished)

* * *

March 31st, 1204

The auditorium was full. Between the two rows of columns of the building more than two hundred teenagers were taking their seats, simple wood chairs in keeping with the relative austerity of the place. From above, the imperial stallions and the academy's horned lions adorning the red tapestries decorating the room were a silent, yet highly visible presence, as if they were about to pass judgment on the newcomers. Facing the young men and women pouring in the building, half a dozen adults were lined up in front of a theatre scene, today used to host the podium from which the upcoming speech would be delivered. On the upper balconies, a few observers were simply waiting around by the glass windows, largely indifferent to the nervous tension coming from the freshmen's group.

For many teens of the Erebonian Empire, the end of March was to be an auspicious day. As the gates of Thors military academy opened, dozens of young men and women were about to embark on a life-changing journey, like many of those who came before them. With more than two hundred years of continued existence, the school had shaped up Erebonia's finest year after year, a fact any new student would often be reminded of. For many, it could be a tough act to follow, hence the ambient stress and trepidation that seemed to permeate the air today, as students were waiting for the opening speech of principal Vandyck. Yet the man most eager for this year to start wasn't a student, but a man in his mid-twenties, blonde hair tied in a ponytail, with piercing violet eyes and dressed in a regal red and gold uniform indicative of his social class. Above the gathered freshmen, from the auditorium's balconies, Prince Olivert Reise Arnor, eldest - though illegitimate - son of Emperor Eugent III, amateur bard-adventurer, notorious troublemaker, and according to some, disgrace of the imperial family, was intent on being present in this auspicious day.

Thunderous applauses signaled the arrival of the upcoming speaker. At seventy years old, principal Vandick still cut a striking figure, with his imposing height , broad shoulders and straight posture, only emphasized by his black uniform decorated with golden epaulettes. Even with his grey hair and beard, it was easy to believe this was the man acclaimed as a war hero throughout the Empire, and who once led its armies during numerous campaigns. It might have been ten years since he left active service, dedicating himself to his role at Thors instead, but it was likely no-one in the building ignored his accomplishments, despite the students being too young to really remember them.

"It is with great pleasure and pride that I wish to welcome you all for this new year at Thors academy..."

Vandick's booming voice became the only audible noise in the auditorium. Still, Olivert couldn't help but notice the different reactions among the assembled teenagers. In fact, he made it a game of sorts trying to differentiate the first years students from the second through reactions alone. The more relaxed half, whose polite attention didn't prevent from occasionally whispering to each other or looking around for familiar faces, were most certainly second years students, no longer inhibited by Thors' mystique. On the other hand, those drinking the principal's every words, almost standing at attention while doing so, tended to be newcomers, entering the academy with their heads full of tales and expectations. Ultimately, whether or not they would find what they were looking for here depended mostly of themselves. For now though, Olivert's gaze was focusing on the handful of students dressed in red, less than ten lost in a sea of green and white uniforms. There it was. The concrete proof that he won his first gamble, and that his pet project was about to come to fruition: the establishment of class VII.

Aidios knew it had not been easy. While the academy's board of directors, which he presided, was supposed to have the final say on any internal matters of the institution, it was still imperative to not alienate the school's most generous contributors, most of them nobles of ancient families. And Class VII, in many aspects, had been a hard sell. The idea of mixing nobles and commoners had triggered outraged protestations. The suggestion of using students as field-testers of the new ARCUS technology had been met with open scorn and ridicule – some going as far as dismissing the device itself, calling it a glorified radio transmitter. The principle of monthly field studies had been similarly derided - "Thors trains soldiers, not travelers!" protested Hyarms. Of course Olivert had gleefully pointed out to the marquis that nowadays, two-third of the graduates found positions outside the military, so clearly Thors wasn't _just_ training soldiers. And then came the names. Sara Valestein as main instructor had been a contested choice, to say the least; while no-one doubted the combat prowess of the Purple Lightning, her qualifications as educator were less than obvious. Convincing Duke Albarea to let his bastard son participate in this experiment proved excruciating – and it wasn't even as if he cared about the boy, he was just being difficult on principle alone. And allowing a foreigner, even one who came with a war hero's recommendation, in the ranks of a project partly devoted to testing cutting-edge military technology resulted in more than a few arguments. Oddly enough, the ones who protested this the most were often the same people who had derided said technology in the first place. Go figure.

All in all, Olivert had to fight hard for this project to be born, spending days in tedious meetings to cajole, coax and if needed sometimes coerce Thors backers into agreement. Those were the moments when he _really_ missed his adventure days in Liberl. Life had been so much simple as Olivier Lenheim back then, not to mention a lot more fun, despite – or maybe because of? - the dramatic events of that time.

"Through history" Vandick's voice boomed "Thors has acquired a reputation for excellence, one that you will be expected to uphold. Do not let that pressure crush you, though, for self-confidence is often the first step toward success."

Among the teachers, Olivert saw a young woman stifling a yawn, earning herself a glare from the ever-vigilant vice-principal, which she answered with a half-apologetic grin. The prince had to restrain himself to not wave at her from the balconies; he was certain she'd wave back, indifferent to the commotion it could cause. Sara Valestein never had been one to be bound by conventions – and it was exactly why he picked her. It took one troublemaker to appreciate another, after all.

"So you did come. Here to watch out for your investments?"

Olivert was drawn out of his musings as he saw a stern-looking, bespectacled blond woman making her way toward him. Clad in a white business suit, Irina Reinford could have easily passed for a noblewoman, given the air of authority that seemed to accompany her everywhere. Yet she was "but" a commoner, although one that wielded more power than most nobles could ever dream of, an impressive accomplishment for someone barely entering her forties.

Such a situation would have been almost unthinkable until fifty years ago, when the Orbal Revolution swept through the continent of Zemuria, marking an unprecedented time of technological innovations in every nation. In barely half a century, societies had been deeply transformed by this seemingly endless tide of progress that affected every field, and most countries were still in the process of adjusting to these changes. One of the most noticeable aspect of those societal changes had been the rise of a merchant, industrialist and scientist class, who despite their common blood, could easily prove more influential than the old ruling noble families, often more rooted by land and traditions. In Erebonia, no-one exemplified this phenomenon better than the Reinford group, who quickly became the Empire's chief innovator in civilian and military orbal technology. Since she became the chairman of the Reinford group, Irina had worked tirelessly to make her company reach new heights, and the results had been speaking for themselves. How she _also_ managed to be on the board of directors of Thors Academy, Olivert had no idea, but her support to his project had been a real boon.

"Aidios be praised!" the prince exclaimed "My heart yearned for us to be reunited once more after such a cruel separation! Truly this day is blessed like no other."

While he made sure to keep his voice at a somewhat appropriate level – the acoustics of the room meant that a conversation on the balconies would be harder to pick up, but still – his beaming smile and enthusiastic greeting conveyed his feelings well enough. The businesswoman only gave him an unimpressed gaze from behind her glasses, before answering in a flat tone.

"I fail to see how this is a surprise. I did send a notice saying I'd make an appearance, I believe."

Olivert simply shrugged, as if to concede the point.

"That you did! Still, I confess I wasn't sure you'd actually find the time. I know how busy you usually are, after all."

"Time is something you make, not something you find. Since the Reinford group has a significant investment in that project of yours, it was only natural that I came to check it out."

"That's very good! And I suppose you also took the time to greet your lovely daughter while you were at it?"

She casually dismissed the remark with a hand gesture, showing no particular emotion at the mention of her only child.

"Irrelevant. She neither need nor want my input in this matter, and I have better things to do than to hold her by the hand."

Olivert kept on smiling, but couldn't help but wince internally. He knew the Reinford chairwoman was serious to a fault and had her company as her foremost – some would say only - concern, but this was pretty cold. Well, it wasn't his place to interfere in family matters, he supposed. Though it was rather hard to keep his meddling instincts in check. Once again, he glanced downward at the assembled students, still listening to Vandick's inaugural speech In the sea of green and white uniforms, it was easy to notice the odd red ones, even though those wearing them had not yet been made aware of their significance.

"There is something I'd like to know."

Olivert raised his head to look at the Reinford chairwoman who had moved by his side, looking at the crowd with a dispassionate glance.

"What do you hope to accomplish? I supported your project in order to speed up the field-testing of the ARCUS, but that's hardly your main goal, isn't it? You and Vandick plotted this thing far too well to be a simple fancy."

The prince offered her his most dazzling smile.

"Why, the answer should be obvious! As in all things, my only desire is for love and peace!"

He was only met with an unimpressed look.

"I have no idea why you insist on playing the fool." Irina sighed. " Fine then, keep your reasons to yourself, the Reinford group will benefit either way. And as much as I'd like to continue our banter, I should probably go. Sharon should be about done by now."

For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, Olivert's smile fell, replaced by a forced neutral expression mixed with a tinge of worry.

"Ah... Are you saying she's on campus right now?"

If the businesswoman was surprised by the question, she showed no sign of it, instead shooting him a flat look.

"Of course. I swear, there are days were I feel she's the only employee I can rely on. I trust this isn't a problem?"

Olivert had to pause before answering. "No. No, of course not."

"Good. Then we will see each other at the next meeting of the board of directors. With your permission."

With a curt nod, Irina departed, leaving the bastard prince alone once again, and doing his best to cast aside that sudden surge of worry this last exchange inspired in him. He should trust the Reinford heiress, he reminded himself. She knew what she was doing, and they were on the same side. Probably. Still, the prospect of having _one of them_ running around among staff and students, even if just for a couple of hours, was... unnerving – and reminded him of the not-so-fun parts of his Liberl adventures.

"... to adapt to the ever-changing nature of warfare. But there is more to what Thors has to offer you than simply learning how to wage battle. The advances of orbal technology have changed the very faces of our society, and thus our teachings, too, strive to keep up with..."

Huh, Olivert believed he recognized that line. Was it used during his own entrance address? Well, the imperial scion couldn't blame Vandick if did reuse some of his old speeches a bit. It probably was hard to be entirely original for the tenth time in a row. He was probably near the end anyway – and not a moment too soon, if the gradual increase of chatter among the student corps was to be trusted. No matter how skilled an orator the old general might be, it was hard to keep the full attention of hundreds of teens for a long period of time. Not that the prince could blame them, what with his own thoughts wandering toward his exchange with Irina once again.

If he was to be honest, the way she questioned his motives hurt a tiny bit. The sad truth was, he hadn't been lying, though he supposed he could have done with less theatrics – but where would be the fun in that, really? As things stood, he could feel the tension inside the Erebonian Empire rising by the day. War had been a common occurrence for his country, which never shied from flaunting its military strength. But this time, what Olivert feared was to see his country torn apart from the inside. It had been two hundred and fifty years since the War of the Lions, and now Erebonia was threatened by civil war once more. The tensions between a nobility jealous of its privileges, and an emperor-backed chancellor determined to reform the country with an iron fist kept growing, and Olivert feared that at this point, a single spark could trigger a catastrophe if nothing was done to prevent it.

Despite his royal lineage, he had little political influence, and almost no military assets to his name. What he did have, though, was a few friends, and the ability to shape the very destiny of this country through his position at Thors Academy. For two hundred and fifteen years, the school did welcome the Empire's brightest, turning them into the ruling elite who would decide of Erebonia's future; the teenagers down below, who were anxiously waiting for Vandick to finish his speech, would become the next nobles, generals and administrators of this country. They would become the ones to shape this country's future. Provided with proper guidance, Olivert believed it would be a bright one. There were many issues to solve first though, the most urgent being the growing hostility between nobles and commoners. For too long, Thors Academy played a part in that growing distance, despite having been founded to prevent it. Now, it was time to take the first step to correct that imbalance.

He would have been the first to admit that his hand, compared to those of his opponents, appeared weak. He was essentially trying to insert himself as a third faction in a two-sided fight, without an army of any kind and with limited financial and political capital. But if, as he suspected, the country was on the brink of a battle for its very soul, this was not a conflict Olivert could simply sit by. And while the Noble Alliance and the Blood and Iron Chancellor alike were gathering weapons and training men, the prince wanted to provide for a third way, one that did not involve a bloodbath that nobody claimed to want, but that seemed to become more and more unavoidable with each passing year. Well, not if he and his allies could help it.

In the auditorium below, the principal's addresses was reaching its conclusion.

"... our mission, however, remains the same: to prepare our students to fulfill Emperor Dreichels' famous mandate. _Arise, O Youth, and become the foundation of the world_."

Hard words to live by. Olivert could only hope that they would be up to the challenge. The future of this country would depend on it, after all.

* * *

 **Author's notes** : _well, after months of writing, rewriting, procrastination, vanishing beta-readers and emotional turmoil, here's finally the prologue of the story I've been sitting on for a little while now. First disclaimer: this fanfiction is born out of mild frustration; I really enjoy the Legend of Heroes licence, and Trails of Cold Steel was no exception (in fact, the first game was what introduced me to the world of Zemuria), and yet I couldn't help but think it had the potential to be even better, that some things would be worth exploring more, or that sometimes the narration was taking shortcuts that could have been avoided._

 _This is basically an attempt at novelizing/rewriting the Trails of Cold Steel saga, while doing so through multiple PoV instead of being constrained by Rean's. In the process, it is my hope to be able to expand on the world of Legend of Heroes, while hopefully providing decent character studies and enjoyable action/adventure in between, while doing my best to address some of the flaws (or at least, things I perceived as flaws) in the original story (that's mostly for the sequel though, if I ever get there)._

 _If you are unfamiliar with the Legend of Heroes setting, yet are still willing to give this story a go, I am making an effort to making this accessible to newcomers (in fact, my current beta-reader hadn't played the games). Whether or not I'm successful at that will be up to you._

 _Final note: In the Legend of Heroes series, I only played the games available on Steam (meaning the Trails in the Sky trilogy and the first two Trails of Cold Steel). I'll probably spoil myself heavily on the Crossbell arc for research purpose, but I intend to avoid spoilers about ToCS III & IV as much as possible. If that eventually leads me to write continuity errors... well we'll cross that bridge when we get there._

 _Thank you all for your support, and see you soon for the next chapter!_


	2. First steps (Sara, Elliot)

" _If you don't have a plan, improvise. You'd be surprised how far this can take you."_ \- Cassius Bright, said in a speech given to the cadets of Liberl Royal Army.

* * *

There was something to be said, Sara Valestein thought, about a woman on the verge of starting her third career path at only 25. The jury was still out whether it was a good or bad thing, though.

After fighting in a Jaeger Corps – a career she had left behind with no regrets – and her years serving as a Bracer – a life she was forced to leave behind kicking and screaming all the way, and that she still longed for to this day – she was now finding herself in the very unexpected position of an educator at the prestigious Thors Academy. Not just to any class, but the elite experimental one too. Had someone told that to her past self only one year ago, she'd have laughed out loud at the ridiculous idea. In fact, she wasn't sure she believed it even now, despite having her prospective trainees right in front of her, nervously awaiting for her... orders? Instructions? Advices? Shit, she really had no clues.

What devil could have compelled Olivert Reise Arnor, an honest-to-god imperial prince – despite all appearances – to personally scout _her_? She was a self-confessed procrastinator, and a solid contender for the title of heaviest drinker in Erebonia; Olivert had laughed at that last protest, claiming she had nothing on some people he met in the Liberl Kingdom (she had half a mind to go there just to prove him wrong). She also utterly lacked any kind of academic background, which was rather unusual for a position of educator here. And judging by the comments that reached her ears on what people said about her new position, she wasn't the only one baffled. Some even went for the obvious explanation: if a royal known for his lecherous ways was pushing an attractive young woman – at least her critics had taste - for a position she was obviously unqualified for, clearly it was yet another case of bedsheets politics, and a new item to add to the ever-growing list of scandals that followed the debaucherous prince.

Well, she could understand where this was coming from. Still pissed her off, though.

Yet somehow, the emperor's eldest son had heard about her, and decided she would be the right person for the job. She supposed her combat prowess partly explained it – this was a _military_ academy, after all – but still it wasn't like the staff at Thors was lacking in skilled fighters, what with most of them being war heroes and whatnot. She suspected part of the reason might lie in her past as a Bracer; from what she knew, the prince had been a vocal supporter of the guild and the main opponent to the "reforms" put forward by chancellor Osborne, who effectively ended up gutting their Erebonian branch. While Olivert had largely lost that particular political fight, it was clear that he held the self-proclaimed "protectors of the citizens" in good esteem. Sara wondered if he might have hoped she would pass along to her students the Guild's values, making sure that while the organization seemed doomed to fade in Erebonia, a new generation would still be around to defend its principles at the very least. Well even if it wasn't his intention, that was what she would try to accomplish.

Too bad she was, by all accounts, a terrible role-model – Fie relished reminding her on a daily basis.

Nonetheless, the former bracer was willing to give this a shot. That was why she was now standing on the old schoolhouse's grounds, staring down at her nine prospective students, hopefully the future members of class VII if everything went well. Honestly that wasn't a given. In a rare case of professionalism, Sara Valestein had taken great care of reading each of their personal files – well, beside the one of her ungrateful protege, the last three months together taught her all there was to know on that front. But because she was still a procrastinator at heart, she had forgotten to ask for pictures, thus leaving her having to guess who was who. She would have been hard-pressed to find a more disparate group of individuals – and that was saying something, given the colourful acquaintances of her mercenary years. It was all according to plan of course: putting together people from all walks of life, in the hope that their various experiences and perspectives would help them to grow as a whole. A noble idea in theory, but Sara feared that in practice, it was more likely to end in bitter conflicts.

Oh well. She'd play it by ear and see how it went. How bad could it be, really?

In yet another uncharacteristic display of work ethics, she actually took the time to prepare a speech. However, as she looked at her would-be trainees, she found she basically couldn't recall a word of it. Maybe writing it over a bottle of whisky hadn't been the best idea, after all – though it really made sense at the time. Well, one more thing to improvise, she supposed. The nine young men and women in front of her seemed by now thoroughly confused, both by their current location – the old schoolhouse where she had led them had been abandoned for decades, and it showed – and by the fact they had been apparently singled out from the vast majority of students, their red uniforms being a stark contrast from the noble's white or the commoner's green. Not used to be looked at for guidance, Sara Valestein took a deep breath, trying to project her usual confidence in her voice.

"The name's Sara Valestein. I'm the instructor of class VII, which means you get the pleasure of seeing me all year. Glad to finally meet you!"

She capped the introduction with a smile she hoped was reassuring. From the dubious or outright worried looks she got, and the few confused whispers some students exchanged, it didn't seem to have worked too well. A tall girl with dark blue hair tied up in a ponytail stepped forward, asking what was probably on everyone's minds.

"I'm not sure I understand. I wasn't told anything about this at enrolment."

She was soon backed up by a bespectacled girl whose purple hair were neatly tied up into a long braid. "Excuse me, instructor Valestein? I was under the impression there were only five classes at this academy, and that students were split among them based on their social class and home region..."

Fair enough, Sara supposed. It was only natural that they'd have questions – and perhaps starting the day by gathering them all in a building that screamed 'haunted mansion' hadn't been the best way to put them at ease. Anyone would be on edge after being led in a building in the middle of the backyard campus woods, in a room with nothing but naked dark stone to contemplate. Even the windows seemed to barely let light in! Oh well. For now, she could answer... crap, which one was she? There were four girls in class VII, and she was all too familiar with one of them, which still left three possibilities. Well, time to take a shot in the dark.

"Right you are, Miss Top Scorer on the Thors entrance exam!"

The student's face showed no sign of confusion at the accolade, only mild embarrassment at the few glances from her fellow classmates the compliment earned her. Sara mentally patted herself on the back for scoring a bullseye: that studious-looking young woman had indeed been Emma Millstein, whose extraordinary academic scores earned her a spot in this select project. With a smile, the instructor continued.

"Students in each year are divided into five classes: two for the nobility and three for commoners. And it's been that way for ages, right up through last year. But this year, we decided to shake things up a little."

A gross oversimplification of the struggles that led to the creation of this special class, but they didn't need to know that yet. They had enough on their plate as things were.

"We now have a sixth class. Fittingly titled... class VII!"

To her disappointment, the joke she had spent at least fifteen minutes on while writing her speech – to the point where it became the only thing she managed to recall on the spot - earned her no laughs, not even smiles, just yet another batch of confused stares, and a pitying gaze from Fie. That brat. Urgh, moving on.

"And in class VII, we recognize no distinction between nobles and commoners."

That, more than the cutting-edge technology they would have to field-test, more than the unorthodox curriculum that was planned for them, was probably the biggest specificity of class VII. A social experiment that had the potential to turn pretty badly if-

"This must be some kind of joke!"

\- if _that_ happened.

While most of the teens still seemed unsure of what to think of the situation, one of them looked like he had a clear opinion on that: namely, that he hated it. One of the nobles? With his short, spiky grey-green hair and the furious glare he was throwing her way behind his glasses, he didn't really look like one, but-

"And why is it the first _I_ have heard of it?!"

Then again, he was pushy enough to be one. Sara scrambled for a proper response, still thrown off-balance by the vitriol in his tone.

"Well, uh... errr... who were you again?"

At this point, trying to make another blind guess was more likely to piss him off even more if she ended up being wrong, and she didn't want to push her luck. The teen straightened his posture, pushing back his glasses on his nose before answering in an imperious voice.

"Machias Regnitz. And with all due respect, instructor, it's _ludicrous_ to intermix nobles and commoners like this!"

Oh. Not a noble at all after all, despite the attitude. Still with a pretty impressive pedigree though, from what Sara remembered. Somehow, she hadn't expected the son of the capital's governor, who came just a little shy of the top score at the entrance exam, and whose mind and willpower had been praised by his previous tutors to be so... vehement. Damn it! She had hoped he'd be one of the calming influences inside class VII! Unfortunately, a file could only tell you so much, and the real article seemed somewhat more difficult to handle than she had anticipated. The green haired student was on a full-throated rant at this point, with no sign of slowing down anytime soon.

"Must I be forced to spend my next two years shoulder to shoulder with those arrogant, stuck-up hedonists?!"

"Uh... You DO know I'm not the one who made the decision, right?" Sara weakly interjected. "Besides, what's the big deal anyway, you're all kids. Can't you all just..." she scrambled for a reasonable suggestion, found none, and decided to push forward anyway "get along or something?"

It would be really convenient if they did, because honestly, the would-be teacher had no idea how to deal with this. At least the suggestion had thrown Machias off-balance, if only due to its sheer naiveté.

"J-just... get along?! Hah! And how do you suppose we do that?"

Sara was spared the need to answer by an audible scoff. Apparently, the student standing right beside Machias Regnitz had not been impressed by the protests. Scowling, the governor's son turned toward his apparent critic, a defiant look in his eyes.

"And what's _your_ problem?"

"Oh, nothing much." His blonde challenger simply gave him a side glance from his icy blue eyes, seemingly already bored with the conversation. "I just find the irony of your behaviour rather humorous."

"Is that so?"

At this point, the other students had opted to simply watch the brewing confrontation, seemingly at a loss on whether or not they should intervene. Truthfully, Sara was pretty much in the same boat as them – and to her growing horror, she realized things were about to get much worse. There was no doubt about it, everything in the newcomer appearance, posture and tone screamed 'nobility' to an onlooker, a fact that had certainly not been lost on Machias, who dramatically opened his arms.

"It seems the scion of some noble house has left the comfort of his mansion to grace the unwashed masses with his wisdom!" The Regnitz boy's voice was now dripping with disdain. "Please, milord, do share your esteemed name with us so I can give you _all_ the respect you deserve."

The nobleman marked a pause, as if considering his answer, before finally obliging him.

"Jusis Albarea." That drew a few gasps from the others, even taking Machias aback. "Not that I'd expect the name of an arrogant, stuck-up hedonist to lodge itself in that hard head of yours."

 _Thought so_. It was no wonder the rest of the class seemed taken aback by the name. The Albarea family were one of the four great noble houses, and the stewards of the Kreuzen province. When it came to rank, only the imperial family stood above them. Helmut Albarea, the current Duke, was probably one of the most well-known names of the Empire. Not necessarily for good reasons, mind you. He was notably one of the staunchest opponents of the Reformist faction - which counted imperial governor Karl Regnitz among their most illustrious members. And already, their sons were at each other's throats. Great.

"Well, you don't get much more noble than that." muttered a blonde girl with striking red eyes.

An apt summary in Sara's eyes, but definitely a problem given the circumstances. She watched Machias expression, whose confusion quickly gave way to renewed disgust.

"D-do you expect me to be impressed?! Your family lineage means nothing to me!" Oh, it meant something alright, in Sara's expert opinion. Just nothing good. "I'll never bend my knee to the likes of-"

She interrupted the oncoming tongue lashing with two short claps of hands. "Okay, okay, that's enough!" At this rate, they were going to get nothing done, and she supposed it was kind of her role to break up those sorts of arguments. Probably? Urgh, she hated being a teacher already. "I'm sure a couple of you have a few grievances, but now's not the time. I'll hear your complaints later." Or find someone to hear them in her stead, preferably. "Right now we have our orienteering exercise, and far be it from me to keep you from our fun little icebreaker."

That at least put the argument on hold, making the class focus on her words once again. Maybe she should have opened up with that.

The blonde girl from earlier raised a hand. "You mentioned this 'orienteering' exercise earlier? What exactly does that involve?"

"It's a form of outdoor competition, isn't it?" Emma Millstein half-answered, half-asked. "Something like a cross between a map-reading exercise and a scavenger hunt?"

That seemed to make one of the boys come to a realization. "Is that why they asked us to hand over our weapons at the gate?"

Well, that and the fact the educators here were not about to have an opening speech in an auditorium full of seventeen years old armed to the teeth, prior training or not. Thors was a military academy with a significant focus put on developing personal combat, but still those kinds of things had to be regulated. Or so they told her, it's not like she had a lot of experience with that. Nonetheless, after the argument from earlier, those questions were a nice change of pace. "Nothing gets by you, does it?"

Sara took a moment to think of the best way to explain what she had in store for them, before realizing it would be a lot simpler to simply let them figure it all out as it went. Well, simpler for her. Meh, learning to deal with unexpected situations couldn't hurt them, right? With a self-satisfied smile, she reached toward a button carefully hidden in the nearest wall.

"Buuut I don't want to spoil the fun, so let's get started, shall we?"

During her planning sessions for her first day with her colleagues, some teachers had pointed out that dropping your whole class through a trap floor leading to a monster-infested maze was _not_ something an educator should do. Sara called these people defeatists and whiners, which is why she pressed the button and did exactly that. The teens barely got the time to register the rumbling made by the stone mechanism before the floor under their feet began to tilt, sliding them straight toward the lower levels of the building, to their general and quite vocal dismay.

Eh, it would be fine, they all had practical combat experience. Well, most of them.

…

… Some of them.

Now, Sara liked to think there was a method to her madness. While the previous outburst between Regnitz and Albarea took her by surprise, she knew from the start that some tensions would be inevitable among a group as diverse as this one. Thus starting the year with a team-building exercise of some sort only made sense. Now, simply dumping them in a hole with monsters awaiting for them on the way out might not have been standard procedure, but if her life as a jaeger turned bracer taught her something, it was that imminent danger was a good way to put aside grudges. Or to get yourself killed, she supposed, but things should be fine, right? The monsters inhabiting the place were nothing that a few junior bracers couldn't handle, and she left them their weapons in the room below, alongside a little gift.

No, she reassured herself, her plan was perfect. Drop them in a hole, they become friends at the end of the day, thus less problems for her all year. And if _that_ didn't work... Well, maybe she'd pick one of the students and dump the peacekeeping responsibilities on them. Motivate them with extra credits, or something. Anything to avoid having to deal with teenage drama herself, really.

Her musings were interrupted when she realized her flawless plan just hit its first snag. While eight of the students had been obliging enough to fall down to the lower floors with various levels of screaming, the ninth one was currently dangling from a rope above the open trapdoor. And not any student, but the one that had been the bane of her existence for the last three months.

"Come _on_ , Fie!"

The silver-haired girl simply sent a flat look her way, apparently indifferent to the fact she was currently ruining her perfect plan. Where did she even find a grappling hook? Sara had made sure she wouldn't bring anything weird to the opening ceremony this morning!

"No cheating! You're going with them and that's that."

Her ward giving no sign of cooperating, the ex-bracer reached with a sigh for one of her combat knifes.

"What's the point of having an icebreaker if you don't make a couple of new friends?"

Fie simply rolled her eyes, as she began to resign herself to her fate. "Ugh, lame."

The thrown projectile neatly sliced up the rope, sending the teenager back to join the others in the depths of the building. All in all, a job well done, Sara couldn't help but think. Then she remembered she totally forgot to explain this whole ARCUS thing to them. Ah well, they'd probably figure it out on their own. As for her, it was time to make a quick trip to the main office in order to find some pictures and stop having to guess the identity of each of her students.

Why did she have the feeling this was going to be a long year?

* * *

Elliot Craig would have been the first to admit, he should have had no place in a military academy.

It wasn't like it had been his choice to begin with, really. But saying "no" to his father always had been an impossible task for him. The man was relentless, and never took no for an answer. So here he was. At least he got to compromise on Thors, whose music club allowed him to not entirely give up on his true passion. But he barely managed to squeak through the entrance exam, doing only so-so on the academic side, and ranking among the bottom tier when it came to physical aptitude – not a bad performance, given Thors' rather high standards of quality, Elliot tried to remind himself. All in all, the young man supposed things could have been much worse, which was why he did his best to remain positive in the face of adversity. Still, two years at a military school was a frightening prospect for someone with absolutely no inclination toward violence and entirely without martial experience – no, his father's tales didn't count – and he spent many nights unable to sleep, all sorts of mental images forming in his head about what sort of life, what sort of people he'd meet there.

Somehow, his first day managed to exceed his worst case scenario so far – no small feat given his rather vivid imagination.

Of all the ways it could have gone, falling through a trapped floor and ending in some sort of monster-infested catacombs as part of some crazy test wasn't something he felt could realistically happen. Surely this was against school rules _somehow_ , right? It was a miracle the fall left him unscathed! Well, the fact that none of the eight other students suffered any injury either probably meant the trap had been designed with their safety in mind, but still. Not an ideal start, he couldn't help but think as he laid on the ground, trying to clear his head. Then came personal drama.

In a fit of misfortune, two of his new classmates ended falling on top of each other. The first acquaintance he managed to make during the inauguration ceremony, a young dark-haired man going by the name of Rean Schwarzer, ended up with his face stuck in the chest of a female twin-tailed blonde classmate, which immediately made for a rather awkward situation. One slap and several screams later, and it was clear that a new enmity had already been formed among their group – that would have been some sort of record if not for the instant feud that already opposed the Albarea noble and that Regnitz fellow. Rean had bashfully retreated as far away as possible from the irate girl, in hope of somehow placating her ire – to no avail so far.

As Elliot hoped that the worst was now behind them, and that they would be able to band together in order to escape the maze they were thrown into, tempers flared once again, ending up in the Albarea noble taking off alone and prompting his green-haired rival to do the same in some misguided spirit of competition. The small silver-haired girl also silently departed in another direction, leaving the bulk of them with only six members (how could someone so young dive head-first into such a dangerous area, the aspiring violinist had no idea). Quick introductions were made. Rean aside, the third male with brown hair in their team presented himself as Gaius Worzel; the purple-haired girl their instructor had singled out as the top scorer of the entrance exam was apparently named Emma Millstein, while the athletic blue-haired one introduced herself as Laura S. Arseid – the name seemed to be recognized by Rean, but the dark-haired boy didn't comment on it. As for the twin-tailed blonde one, she was apparently so furious she declined to provide a last name, simply introducing herself as Alisa, with a glare almost challenging them – or more specifically Rean - to ask for more. No-one did.

Given the problematic relationship between those two, Laura made the sensible suggestion of splitting up into two groups, the three girls going off to explore in one direction while the boys would pick another. Elliot could admit that the reasoning was sound – those underground tunnels looked like a maze, and the sooner someone found the exit, the sooner they could guide the others to it – but he was not ashamed to admit he would have felt a lot safer in a group of six rather than a part of a three men team.

Mostly, Elliot feared he wouldn't be able to pull his weight. His combat training had been minimal, to say the least, and his physical fitness was merely adequate. He thought himself decently skilled at casting artes, but he had little confidence in the power of his passed-down quartzs, which he had chosen more for their pleasing aesthetics than a concern of fighting for his life. He thought he'd have time to make a more informed choice once school would start in earnest, and had just grabbed a couple of blue gems – he liked blue - traditionally associated with healing and water properties. Hopefully they'd prove useful somehow. To make matters worse, his – and everyone else's – battle orbments had been integrated to those strange devices Instructor Sara had called "ARCUS" without explaining what they _were_. And finally, the only weapon he carried with him was an experimental orbal staff. Given his complete lack of combat training, he had easily agreed to test this new line of weaponry currently being developed by the Reinford group, with the expectation that he'd be given some time to familiarize with it before being thrust into a life-or-death situation. No such luck, apparently.

So now, he would have to waddle through hordes of creatures with no combat experience, a weapon he didn't know how to use, a weird battle orbment and combat artes he was barely familiar with. In his opinion, he had ample reasons to have serious misgivings about his current predicament.

Fortunately, his two companions seemed far more at ease. To his right, Rean Schwarzer was a reassuring presence, his grey eyes focusing on the dark corridors ahead of them, while holding his curved sword – he had called it a tachi earlier – with practised ease. While he wasn't that much taller than Elliot, who himself erred on the small side, it was clear from his build he was far more ready for the demands of a physical confrontation. On his left, Gaius Worzel was a picture of serenity; the boy claimed to be from the Nord Highlands, a region stuck between the northern Erebonian border and the Calvard Republic, inhabited by a few nomadic tribes. While Elliot knew very little about the people living here, he had to admit Gaius certainly had an exotic look compared to your standard Erebonian. With his darker skin and truly impressive height, close to two arges, he certainly stood out in a crowd. More importantly considering their current situation, he seemed just as battle ready as Rean, carrying a long spear with a cross-shaped head. Elliot Craig was no expert, but it certainly looked like the northerner knew how to use it.

"Look out!"

A cry of alarm from Rean was the only warning Elliot got before coming face to face with monsters for the first time in his life.

It's not like he was completely ignorant of them, of course; he doubted anyone on the continent of Zemuria was. It was theorized they appeared in the aftermath of the Great Collapse, more than a thousand years ago, but the lack of records made it impossible to prove or disprove that theory. Nonetheless, those creatures came in very different shapes and forms, but all shared an apparent innate hostility toward mankind, often attacking on sight with the intent to kill. Throughout the Dark Ages, they proved to be a persistent threat to the fledgling human nations, who lived or died by their abilities to keep their fields safe and their roads secure. Growing numbers and better weaponry eventually allowed mankind to push back, and nowadays their threat had been considerably reduced. Nonetheless, exterminating them entirely had proven all but impossible – scholars were still debating about their uncanny ability to repopulate in areas where they were thought to be extinct – and while no longer a danger to everyday travels, they were still the cause of the occasional disappearance in remote areas. Born and raised at the imperial capital of Heimdallr, Elliot never had to worry about that. There were some stories of monsters being spotted in some portions of the sewer system, but even if that was true, why in Aidios' name would he even consider entering those? Unfortunately, it seemed his monster-free existence ended today.

As far as monsters went, those were far from the demons and dragons of legend. Instead, the four creatures rushing to meet them looked more like some sort of overgrown, yellow-ish beetles, each the size of a small dog. Nonetheless, one look at their razor-sharp pincers was enough for Elliot to realize the danger was real. With a strangled yelp, he raised his staff in order to defend himself, almost tripping backward in the process. His two companions, however, did not even flinch, each stepping forward to meet the insectoid creatures head on.

Gaius was the first to act, twirling his spear once before thrusting it, the motion creating a massive gust of wind crashing into two of the incoming monsters. The blow didn't cause serious damage, but stunned them long enough for Rean to drive his blade through a beetle's carapace, before the dark haired swordsman stepped back in order to avoid having his leg slashed up, leaving behind a not quite dead, yet severely injured creature.

Any sense of relief Elliot could have felt at this favourable first exchange disappeared when one of the monsters decided to rush past the two frontline defenders, and in an unexpected display of agility, _jumped_ straight toward Elliot's face, its sharp mandibles all too ready to lacerate him. Caught entirely by surprise, the boy froze, his mind scrambling to formulate a response that wouldn't come in time; his salvation came from Gaius, the foreign spearman managing to turn around in time and bat the creature away with the shaft of his weapon, sending it tumbling on the stone floor. Rean managed to protect the exposed back of his companion long enough for the later to once again focus on the enemies in front of him.

A chaotic melee ensued, sword and spear keeping the monsters at bay. The enemy's size quickly proved to be the main challenge, forcing the two fighters to often strike at awkward angles against a rather slippery foe. It was even worse for Elliot, who felt more and more useless by the moment. He knew his staff could release small beams of concentrated orbal energy, but against such small targets already engaged in melee, he wasn't confident enough in his accuracy to not end up hitting one of his allies. Casting artes would likely suffer from the same problem. He supposed he could still cast a healing arte – he expected that quartz to come in handy before long – but was any of his friends even injured yet? He didn't think so, but couldn't be entirely sure due to how fast the battle was proceeding.

He almost missed the fourth beetle, the one Gaius sent flying to protect him, who had apparently shaken off the blow enough to join back the fray once again, apparently intent on taking revenge upon the spearman, who was currently focused on the last remaining opponent. This time though, Elliot managed to act. His arm only trembling slightly, he raised his staff in the direction of his foe, before beginning to focus. Casting an arte would only take a few instants, but those seemed like an eternity as he watched the insectoid monster closing the distance toward the northerner. He finally released the accumulated orbal energy, hoping to act on time.

"Aqua Bleed!"

A small mass of water materialized out of thin air, rushing toward the creature. Elliot's aim had been slightly off, his attack only managing to score a glancing hit, yet that was enough to push it off course, and for Gaius to turn around and finish it off in one swift stroke, while Rean ended the last monster's life. As soon as he realized the danger had passed, Elliot felt his legs turning into jelly, and fell down on his knees as his body started to come down from the adrenaline rush.

"Is... is everyone alright?"

He hated how breathless his voice sounded when he barely did a thing, while the two other boys seemed barely tired despite fighting way harder. Yet none of them seemed to care, Gaius even offering him an approving smile.

"I am, thanks to you. That was a well executed arte, Elliot."

That got a nervous laugh from him. "It was nothing special, really. To be honest, I barely cast that in time, and it didn't even do much. Compared to you guys..."

"Still," Rean butted in "using artes while in melee would be extremely hard for us. It'd be pretty difficult to focus on that while still fighting, so having you around to watch our backs should come in handy."

Gaius nodded his agreement. "I shall thank the winds that put us in each other's path. This goes for you too, Rean. That was some impressive swordsmanship."

The praise drew a nervous laughter from the black-haired teen. "I have a long way to go, really. Still, maybe we should save the round of compliments for after we leave that place. We're not out of the woods yet."

That made sense to Elliot. "Well, I'll be in your care, then."

"Leave it to us!"

Standing back up, Elliot felt a little better. The feelings of inadequacy were still here, and he suspected the encouraging words of his classmates were just an attempt at cheering him up, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the sentiment. Their presence made him more at ease, and when they resumed their progression through the maze, some of his previous nervousness had vanished. Instead, he found himself wondering about the lives of his two classmates. They all were seventeen, as far as he could tell, yet for those two to be able to handle the current situation so well... Clearly their experiences had been drastically different from his own. It probably wasn't the time to ask for their life story, though; hopefully the next two years at Thors should provide ample opportunities to ask. For now maybe he could ask about smaller things?

"Gaius, I wanted to ask..."

"Yes?"

"You mentioned winds earlier? As in some sort of spirits? I didn't know people in the Highlands had their own religion. Do you still believe in Aidios, or..." He realized a second later that he might have stumbled upon a sensitive topic – the Septian Church had been the sole religious institution in Zemuria since the Dark Ages, and tended to show no love for heretics – but the northerner did not seem bothered by the question.

"Well, we _do_ pray to She Who Dwells Above. But we also-"

"Enemies sighted!"

Rean's warning snapped them back to attention. Once again, he and Gaius jumped into the fray, starting to dispatch their foes with relative ease. This time, Elliot was able to provide a modicum of support, targetting enemies that were knocked out of melee range, and managing to heal a scratch from a blow that Gaius was just a bit too slow to completely dodge. Healing through orbal energy was far from a perfect solution – it did little against the pain or blood already lost, and while surface injuries were easy to treat, internal ones were a lot harder to deal with – but when it came to such small cuts, it did the job well enough.

Elliot's sense of relief at how well this skirmish was going grew into horror when he heard the sound of chitinous legs on the stone corridor coming from behind him. Through luck or above average cunning, one of the creatures had apparently managed to sneak past the fight, and was now making a beeline toward him. His scream instantly alerted his companions of his predicament, and to their credit, they reacted instantly, turning back to dash toward him. In an instant, Gaius had closed the distance between the two of them by half, and Rean was even faster. Yet as time seemed to freeze, Elliot realized with horrifying certainty that neither would make it in time. His own staff all but forgotten, he could only watch as the beetle grew closer, and prepared himself for the pain of its pincers tearing his flesh, praying Aidios that the wound wouldn't be fatal.

His salvation came with a gunshot.

Elliot found himself spattered with yellow fluid as the creature jumping at him had its torso shredded to bits; any other time this would have make him shriek with disgust. Right now all he could feel was relief.

"Looks like I made it just in time. Thank Aidios for that."

Elliot turned toward his saviour: a slightly out of breath Machias Regnitz, holding an orbal rifle with one hand while supporting himself against the nearest wall with the other. Elliot could have hugged him – if he wasn't confident that his shaky legs wouldn't collapse on the way. Instead he settled for a more neutral and less strainful "Thank you for saving me!", which was answered by a polite nod. Gaius went by his side, making sure he wasn't injured, while Rean walked toward the newcomer.

"Ah, Machias, was it?"

"That's right." The green-haired boy hesitated before continuing. "I... came to realize I shouldn't have stormed off like I did. I let that arrogant noble goad me into losing my composure and acting on impulse." That last part was said through gritted teeth, as if the simple memory of the Albarea scion was enough to evoke anger. "After I'd cooled my head, I decided to retrace my steps, and there you were."

Something for which Elliot was definitely grateful. While his first impression on Machias Regnitz had been mixed, given the angry display upstairs, the gun-user had easily redeemed himself in his eyes. Also, Elliot had to admit he seemed pretty observant – the red-head knew he would have been incapable to remember which way he came from in this maze.

"So I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I acted foolishly, and I hope you can forgive me for it."

Rean was quick to reassure him. "No sweat. Water under the bridge."

"Yeah, we all have moments when we say or do things we regret." Elliot chimed in. "That's human nature for you." And unfortunately something he feared to be a bit too familiar with.

The group exchanged names once again, welcoming the new addition, to Machias' visible relief. It seemed to Elliot that the bespectacled teenager's shame at his previous outburst was genuine – though whether or not that would be enough to prevent an encore as soon as Jusis Albarea re-entered the picture, only time would tell. For now, he still seemed hesitant about something.

"Could... could I ask you what social class you each belong to?"

Elliot exchanged a wary glance with Gaius and Rean, prompting Machias to frantically shake his hand in denial.

"I realize how that must sound, considering my recent outburst, but please, don't take it personally. I'm simply curious to know who I'm associating with."

That didn't sound so bad, Elliot supposed. "Well, both my parents are commoners."

"Likewise", Gaius chimed in. "Though my homeland has no class system to begin with."

"Ah, so you're from abroad then?" For a moment, it seemed like Machias was about to grill the foreigner with a series of questions – not that Elliot could blame him, since it was basically what he did a bit earlier – but he instead turned toward the last member of the group that so far had remained silent. "What about you, Rean?"

"Well..." the black haired swordsman seemed to consider his words carefully. "Let's just say I haven't got a drop of noble blood in my veins. So I guess we're all on equal standing here."

Elliot blinked. That had been an oddly specific way of phrasing an answer. And he couldn't help but feel like Rean was sounding a bit more sheepish than usual, contrasting with the usual self-assurance he projected. Still, Machias seemed pleased enough with the answer.

"Well, now, that's a relief. We should probably get moving, then. I'm somewhat concerned about the girls, as you might imagine. I'd feel much better if we were around to help if they wound up in danger."

As their small group of four resumed their walk, Rean lightly shook his head. "I don't know about that."

Elliot cast his newfound friend a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"You weren't around by then, Machias, but the blue haired girl introduced herself as Laura S. Arseid."

He waited for his declaration to sink in, but was only rewarded by three blank stares. The family name was vaguely familiar to Elliot, but right now he couldn't recall in which context he heard it, to the obvious dismay of the black haired swordsman.

"Arseid? The family who created one of the two main styles of fencing in Erebonia? Whose current head is renowned as the best swordmaster in the country? You really don't know about them?"

Gaius shrugged apologetically. "I'm afraid I'm still unfamiliar with this country's martial traditions. I hope I'll catch up soon enough."

"And I don't know much about swords to begin with, I'm more focused on marksmanship." Machias added. "Though now that you mention the name... I think I read something about them in an history of the War of the Lions. They're related to Liane Sandlot somehow, if I recall correctly. Retainers who inherited her lands after her death, I believe?"

It was Rean's time to look a bit lost.

"Are they now? I didn't know that."

The embarrassed confession seemed to take Machias aback. "What? How can you recall some obscure fencing trivia, yet be ignorant of such a basic historical fact?"

Rean helplessly shrugged. "Well, you know, I'm a swordsman myself. I guess the lore sorts of come with the territory?"

Elliot wisely decided there was no need to mention he had not known either of those facts – though he wondered if that last one was _that_ widely known, or if it just so happened that Machias was an history buff, the same way that Rean appeared to be a sword enthusiast.

"I'd say calling it 'fencing trivia' would be doing the Arseid school of swordsmanship a disservice though. It serves as a general basis for the techniques used by knights throughout the Empire, after all. And Victor S. Arseid is arguably the strongest swordsman in the country! People call him the radiant blademaster."

Rean had a gleam in his grey eyes, as he talked with a tone Elliot used exclusively when speaking about music or his sister. Noticing the slightly bemused looks his impromptu tirade was earning him, the black haired teen interrupted himself, his expression akin to a child caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

" _Erm_. Anyway, as long as Laura's with them, I'm sure the others should be fine."

Elliot couldn't help but mentally agree with that assessment. The girl had been taller and sturdier than he was – not that it meant much – and had carried on her back the biggest sword he had ever seen, one that he was reasonably certain he would have had trouble to even lift, let alone swing. And it was more than likely that Emma and Alisa also had some sort of training and would be able to pull their weight. At the end of the day, it was likely he was the least combat-ready member of class VII, if not of the whole Academy.

Machias still seemed doubtful, but conceded the point with a nod.

"At any rate, how about we pick up the search? I'm worried about that silver-haired girl, and we still need to track down Duke Albarea's son too."

Right, those two went in alone, Elliot reminded himself. He could only hope nothing happened to them – and shuddered at the thought of the national outcry that would occur if a member of the four great houses was found dead on his first day of school. However, not everyone seemed to share that worry.

"Hmph. I couldn't care less what happens to that pompous ass. He can rot down here."

Elliot let out a nervous laugh. "Come on now, that's no way to treat someone you just met!"

His smile faltered at the sight of Machias' scowl. He couldn't really be serious... Could he? If things were already this bad between them after a couple of conversations, how would they manage a whole year? As he watched Rean and Machias move forward once again, he could feel all of his doubts coming back. What was he even doing here?

His gloomy train of thoughts was broken by an unexpected shoulder pat. Startled, the red-head looked up, surprised to see a smiling Gaius by his side.

"Do not worry too much. Trust in the winds that gathered us all together. I'm sure the rest will fall in place soon enough."

Elliot found the absolute serenity that emanated from the northerner's tone infectious, and found himself nodding his approval on instinct. Maybe he was right, he wondered while hurrying after the other two boys. This was just the beginning of his journey, and while it had been a rocky start, he could still keep going. And if he faltered, he already made friends that could support him on the way. For the first time since he was forcefully enrolled, Elliot began to think that maybe those two years at Thors wouldn't be so bad after all.

His newfound optimism vanished when a huge statue spontaneously animated itself to kill them all, and things went very, very wrong.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sara was quite pleased with herself. It had taken a bit of begging to Neithardt and the promise - which she intended to conveniently forget as soon as possible - to pay the next time they went out drinking, but she had finally managed to put an image above each of her students files. And there should be plenty of time left before they exited the building, which meant-

"Hey. I'm done."

"Gyah!"

She turned around to meet Fie's bored gaze.

"But... You were supposed to... What are you even doing here?" she sputtered.

The younger girl only shrugged, not even bothering to come up with an answer. "Anyway, going for a nap. Wake me when it's over."

"Oh no you don't!" Sara stopped her protégé from walking past her by grabbing her by the collar neck, forcefully turning her toward the Old School's building once again. "You are going to get back in here and - and make some friends, or something!"

"Lame."


	3. Lost and found (Jusis, Rean)

" _You sign up for epic battles and saving the innocent, and you end up spending most of your time crawling underground while being utterly lost. And then the battle always go wrong, and the innocent is an ashole."_ unknown bracer quote

* * *

It didn't take long before Jusis Albarea began to think maybe rushing ahead on his own had been a mistake.

An understandable mistake, maybe. This Machias Regnitz character had been an infuriating presence, and the prospect of spending more time than absolutely necessary with him was distressing, to say the least. Moreover, given the way some of the others students had gawked at him – no, at his name – he had an inkling they would have made for an irritating partnership too. He had quite enough of fools either resenting him for the actions of his family, or trying to garner favour from the house of Albarea by seeking his friendship, thank you very much. The prospect of being thrust into a class mixing nobles and commoners did not particularly faze him: in his experience, most of his supposed peers were pests, simply content to flout their names to get ahead in life. And while Jusis would never feel ashamed of bearing the name of Albarea, that came with a duty of proving yourself worthy, not the indolent complacency he had observed among so many scions of the nobility.

Really, it was no wonder the Reformists had gained so much traction these recent years.

Given the circumstances leaving had seemed to be the sensible course of action, at least for the sake of his own peace of mind. Nonetheless, after spending close to one hour roaming through stone corridors, and being no closer from finding the exit, it was time to admit his initial impulse may have been ill-advised. Despite his personal feelings, joining forces with the others would have made leaving this place easier.

Speaking of this place, Jusis had to admit the location was rather peculiar. The whole complex was underground, with no visible openings to the surface, yet light had not been an issue, due to the numerous orbal lamps illuminating the way. That should have been nothing out of the ordinary – those devices became ubiquitous a few decades ago – until one remembered that this building was in all likelihood considerably older, predating their inventions by at least two centuries. At first he had believed the lamps to be a recent upgrade from the Thors faculty, but a quick exam showed they seemed as old as the rest of the place, yet still in perfect working order.

Jusis was no archaeologist, but he was rather sure this was not normal.

The layout of those catacombs did not appear to make sense either. Those corridors were full of seemingly random twists and turns, while stairs kept leading him up or down without any discernible patterns, to the point where he really couldn't tell what distance he might have walked already, or even if he was currently lower or higher than his initial position. It was as if this whole place was designed to confuse human senses. But who would have built it like that, and more importantly why?

Nonetheless, the architecture was only a secondary concern compared to the various monsters that crossed his path. They came in all sorts: strange gelatinous blobs, overgrown beetles, winged feral cats... The nobleman had no idea how such an ecosystem could even function, and frankly didn't care; all that mattered to him was their constant attacks, which were starting to become a nuisance.

Jusis wasn't too concerned about his safety, of course. As a member of the high nobility, it was expected of him to be a capable fighter, able to lead through example on a battlefield if needed. As such, his training with the rapier had been extensive, and he was no stranger to the finest points of orbal artes casting either. That new battle orbment the school issued took a little time to get used to, but so far he couldn't complain about its performance. A cursory examination seemed to indicate the thing had countless functionalities whose purpose remained mysterious so far; though admittedly technology wasn't a strong suit of his. Dispatching the few creatures he encountered proved to be little challenge to the scion of House Albarea, still the constant skirmishes were beginning to take their toll. While he was not so clumsy as to get _injured_ by such meagre opponents, the whole thing was turning to be a rather tedious stroll, and a dirtying one at that. His clothes were marred by dirt and monster blood, his sword arm was beginning to ache, and Jusis felt like a small headache was coming his way. All in all, this day was shaping up to be _unpleasant_.

 _Curse that foolish teacher! What was she even thinking?_

This Sara Valestein was entirely unknown to him, but her lackadaisical front did not inspire confidence, as far as he was concerned. He was certain the teaching staff had excellent reasons to hire her – such a reputed institution certainly had an extensive screening process - but for the life of him he couldn't even begin to imagine them right now. The woman was far too young to have any meaningful teaching experience, and all Jusis had seen from her were a messed up speech, a poor attempt at humour, and dropping them down a hole. He was pretty sure most nobles he knew would have disapproved. In fact, he very much suspected that his father would be livid if he ever heard of the details of this particular first day.

Not that he'd ever ask, of course. The Albarea name might be important in the Duke's eyes, but Jusis himself was not.

With a frustrated grunt, the nobleman drove his rapier through the nearest monster – yet another of those strange flying felines – before releasing an arte toward another. The stream of lightning sent the creature twitching on the floor. Still they kept coming, two others taking the place of those he just dispatched. How annoying.

Jusis raised his blade once again, intent on parrying the oncoming attack and counter as a follow-up. The chance to do so never came as a blur of red and silver shot past him, diving toward his opponents. Two flashes of steel, and the monsters were slain, leaving the young noble face-to-face with the newcomer: a small girl with green eyes and silver hair. Despite the deadpan expression on her face, she lazily flashed a victory sign in his direction.

Recognizing another member of class VII – as if the red uniform wasn't enough of a clue – Jusis sheathed his rapier, before giving her a nod.

"I suppose I should thank you."

The sentence came out a bit harsher than what he had intended. While he did feel he had the situation well in hand, it was no reason to appear ungrateful. Fortunately, the girl seemed to take no offence, easily shrugging off his social faux pas.

"You're welcome."

Jusis glanced at the girl, frowning. She certainly was a strange one. Her small stature and youthful face made it hard to believe she was seventeen - the usual age for Thors freshmen. Yet her body language showed no sign of the tension any sane person would feel upon being thrust into a monster-filled labyrinth. In fact, she almost seemed _bored_ , an impression accentuated by her unkempt short hair and somewhat loosely adjusted uniform. Her weapons were another source of curiosity for the nobleman; gunswords were a rare sight in Erebonia, and from what he knew they took time to be efficient with. Yet that girl was carrying a pair with no sign of discomfort, and from what little he saw during the previous skirmish, her skill was not to be doubted.

Shaking his head, he forcefully put those considerations away. Anyone was entitled to a few secrets – in that regard, his family was no exception – and right now there were more urgent matters at hand. Though there was one piece of information he felt bound to ask.

"May I ask for your name?"

"Sure."

The agreement was followed by a long silence, which wasn't quite what Jusis had in mind. His expectant stare was met with a blank face. She... she did understand figures of speech, surely? Just as he began to wonder if perhaps he should reformulate his question, the girl spoke again.

"Fie Claussell. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He tried his best not to frown. "I believe I have introduced myself already, but I am-"

"Jusis, I know."

This time he couldn't quite suppress his scowl. On one hand, he never had been overly fond of titles and formalities; and if he was to spend his two years at Thors with commoners, lording his family name over them would be a very petty attitude. Still, he wouldn't have minded if that girl had at least _hesitated_ before deciding they were on a first name basis.

He couldn't help but mentally admonish himself for this line of thoughts. Earlier he had been contemplating how annoyed he would be if his classmates made a big deal of his status, had he not? He couldn't complain now that one of them seemed utterly unimpressed.

Well, maybe he could complain just a little.

"Very well" he sighed. "I don't suppose the others are coming right behind you?"

The girl shrugged. "Nope, just me."

"I see. Shall we be off then? The faster we meet up with the others and find the exit, the better."

"Well, if it's the exit you want, I can take you there. It's a bit far away though" she mused. "Maybe we'll pick up Machias on the way."

Jusis couldn't quite stop his eyebrow from twitching at the name. That green-haired idiot was the last person he'd like to have by his side right now. Though more importantly-

"How do you know where the exit is?"

The question remained unanswered. Fie simply strolled down a seemingly random direction, following a flight of stairs without even checking to see if Jusis was behind her. With a groan, the nobleman followed. His new partner was definitely weird, and he was beginning to suspect her off-putting mannerisms were not simply born out of social awkwardness. She had proven to be able to pull her weight in a fight though. If she truly knew where the exit was, it'd be foolish to simply ignore it.

At the very least, she showed no hesitation when it came to pick a path. For half an hour, they continued to navigate through the subterranean maze, all the while fending off the occasional monster attack – he had to admit they were certainly easier to repel when he had someone to watch his back. The architecture still baffled him though, as they passed through yet another massive archway. Just how big was this place? Was it really a part of the old school design, or was Thors Academy built upon an even older complex? Unfortunately studying the history of antique ruins that could be found throughout Zemuria had never been high on his list of priorities. Once this ridiculous ordeal was over, maybe he'd ask one of the teachers for details. Speaking of which.

"Is it still far?" he asked, not bothering to hide his impatience. "It feels like we've been down there for hours."

"Almost there. Just have to continue in this direction." the Claussell girl pointed toward yet another flight of stairs – at least those were going up – without the slightest hesitation.

As if to answer her statement, a shrill, panicked scream echoed through the hallway, coming straight from the direction she wanted them to go.

"Huh. Seems like someone woke that big thing. Better hurry."

Well, wasn't that ominous. "Dare I ask what 'big thing' you are referring to?" Something told him the answer was not about to improve his mood.

"You'll see soon enough." she said, before breaking into a sprint. He followed suit once again.

If one of his classmates was in peril, it was probably his duty to provide assistance – and if the one in trouble turned out to be a certain green, spiky haired nuisance, the prospect of having him in his debt was not entirely without appeal. Such petty thought was probably unworthy of the Albarea name, Jusis acknowledged within the safety of his own mind. Then again, the day had been frustrating enough, and he wasn't about to deny the one thing that might brighten it up a bit.

Sometimes it was the little things that counted, after all.

* * *

As he went flying, Rean Schwarzer couldn't help but think that things weren't going as well as they could.

The black-haired swordsman suppressed a grunt as he hit the stone floor, yet he still managed to roll away, avoiding the massive paw that crushed the pavement he landed on. The monster roared, but Gaius' spear thrust managed to distract it long enough for Rean to stand up once again, gasping for breath.

Unfortunately, it was all the attack could accomplish. The blow, like half a dozen the two fighters managed to land before, barely scratched their opponent. Machias shots weren't doing much either, its rock-hard skin once again preventing their weapons from drawing blood. Did that monster even _have_ blood? Rean doubted it could entirely be made of stone – the creature seemed too fast and too agile for that – but then again, nothing about this beast made sense.

The first blow had come from nowhere. The four-man team had made due progress, withstanding the various monster ambushes with only a couple of scratches here and there. And as they finally spotted what seemed like sunlight coming from the top of a stairway, they had hoped the 'orienteering' exercise was coming to an end. Of course, Rean should have known nothing was ever that easy. Which was why he was almost blaming himself for not anticipating that _of course_ the giant statue watching over the stairs would spontaneously animate to kill them all.

The creature was looking a bit like the tigers or panthers he had seen pictures of in his master's travel books. That is, if panthers or tigers were three-arges high, had bull-like horns, a pair of giant wings and were made of stone. So maybe not all that alike, all things considered. The really important thing though, Rean reminded himself, was that this monster had sharp claws and fangs, horns that looked awfully pointy, was nearly impervious to damage, _and_ was deceptively fast for its size.

Rean wasn't sure he liked these odds.

By now, Gaius was frantically backing away, doing his best to keep the enraged gargoyle at bay by using the full range of his spear. Machias was attempting to provide support but having to aim in a melee, even against such a large target, wasn't making things easy for him. The few shots he did manage to take were mostly glancing blows, barely noticed by their target. As for Elliot-

"A-Aqua Bleed!"

The water bolt hit the creature's side, making it roar in pain and stopping it dead in its tracks. That was enough to give Rean some hope back; if orbal artes were effective against the monster, then maybe they could pull it off after all. His newfound optimism was replaced by horror as he saw the gargoyle turning its head toward their red-headed friend, before breaking into a sprint.

Rean didn't need Elliot's panicked shriek to realize how bad this could be. He and Gaius barely managed to survive in close quarters against that foe; the orbal staff user would be torn apart. The black-haired swordsman rushed forward in a desperate attempt to intercept the pouncing creature; unfortunately someone else had the exact same idea. As Rean darted forward, his path was accidentally blocked by Gaius, sword and spear users on a collision course with each other due to their haste. The loud curse coming from behind also told him they just blocked Machias' line of fire. Great.

Spinning around, Rean managed to avoid crashing into his ally while still dodging the rampaging monster, but his opportunity to strike was lost. The foreign spearman wasn't so lucky, and got thrown out of the monster path, who continued a mad dash toward its target without ever slowing down. Elliot was frozen in horror, his staff pointed forward like a spear in the futile hope that would be enough to make the creature falter.

For the second time today, his rescue came from Machias. The bespectacled gunman gave up on firing and instead threw himself at the red-headed boy, pushing him away to safety. His heroics cost him dearly though, as the creature's claws missed Elliot, but managed to graze his savior's forearm instead. Machias fell back, letting out a painful cry. Before the monster could press its advantage, Rean was once again in melee range, striking at its legs before retreating, the enraged beast hot on his tail.

Frantically, he tried to remember the steps his former master tried to teach him, the strikes he made him practice over and over in the desperate hope that _something_ would stick. But now that his life depended on those lessons, his inadequacies were painfully clear. Was it any wonder he ended up being kicked out?

 _Damn it, focus!_

Rean dodged a swiping claw before retaliating, his blade barely scratching the skin once again. Gaius rushed to his aid, this time wary of not getting in the way. While the two of them made for a decent enough team in their previous skirmishes, a couple of hours were far from enough to learn how to perfectly fight side-by-side. In other circumstances, not accidentally injuring each other would be deemed a good enough result! For now, the two fighters stayed on the defensive, focusing on avoiding the heavy blows sent their way.

Visibly frustrated, the creature halted the assault, giving them some much needed breathing room. Before they could count their blessings though, its head reared back, before expelling a burst of flames in their direction. Diving to the side, Rean felt the heat singing his face, but managed to remain unharmed otherwise. The spearman wasn't so lucky, the attack leaving scorching marks on his left flank as he rolled away, gritting his teeth.

"It-it can breathe fire too?!"

Rean could understand Elliot's tone of horror. What _was_ this thing? And more importantly, how did they kill it? They were hanging in so far, and Elliot's healing artes were a precious boon - already Machias seemed to have the use of his injured arm - but that would only take them so far. Rean and his friends were drenched in sweat and breathing hard, while the beast didn't seem to slow down. And even artes could only be used for so long before their orbment started giving out. They had to end it, and soon. He shouted:

"Machias! We need your gun at point-blank range!"

"You want me to get close to that thing?!" Even without seeing his face, Rean could picture the green-haired tclassmate's scowl. "This is beyond reckless!"

"Please!"

He could understand the marksman's reluctance, especially given the close call he already went through, but he suspected that a blast from that gun right to the monster's face was their best bet to hurt it and break its momentum. But for that to happen, he had to make sure the gargoyle remained focused on him and Gaius. The Nord nomad was already back into the fray, each twirl of his spear releasing small bursts of wind. He managed to drive the monster back a few steps, though his pained gasps were proof that his previous injury was taking its toll.

Rean took a deep breath. He really couldn't afford to hesitate now. He might have been a disappointing pupil, but he was still a student of the 'Eight Leaves One Blade' school. Even if his mastery left a lot to be desired for, that didn't mean he learned _nothing_. Taking advantage of the spearman's protection, Rean took a step back and sheathed his tachi.

 _Fourth form._

Clearing his mind, he assumed a crouching stance. And just as Gaius was finally knocked back by a vicious wing strike, he darted forward.

 _Autumn Leaf Cutter._

With a sudden burst of speed, Rean dived under the claw aimed at him before unleashing his own blade, the cut powered by the lightning-fast draw and his own momentum. This time his strike was rewarded with a pained growl, as steel tore through the creature's wing. The monster stumbled just as Rean finished moving behind it, ready to take advantage of his new position.

The razor-sharp tail put an unexpected end to Rean's assault as well as the idea that the back of this creature could be a blind spot, almost cutting his stomach open. Still he had created an opening, and as he hoped, Machias was there to take it. With a pale face but a determined frown, the rifle-user rushed forward, thrusting his orbal gun to the monster's still dazed head. The echoes of the shot were almost immediately drowned by a roar of agony, and the gargoyle stumbled back, its face oozing some sort of purple blood. One of its eyes was clearly done for. This was their chance.

"Orbal artes, now!"

Rean activated his battle orbment, and the others were quick to follow his lead. The red quartz in the device glowed as he focused to shape the oncoming energy before releasing it, his three teammates doing the same almost simultaneously.

"Aqua Bleed!"

"Fire Bolt!"

"Air Strike!"

"Needle Shot!"

The four elemental blasts struck true, dropping the target to the ground. The black-haired teen allowed himself to let out a relieved sigh. This had been way too close for comfort. The creature was still moving, but at this point, it was injured and exhausted, finishing it should be easier.

"G-guys? Is it supposed to do that?"

Elliot's worried voice snapped Rean to attention, and a second look at the monster made his eyes widen. No, no it definitely _wasn't_ supposed to do that.

What was even happening was admittedly hard to explain. Rean had some experience with monsters, having spent most of his training in the northern wilderness of the Eisengard Range, but all of those he fought until now had been relatively straightforward. They had claws, teeth, hard skin or wings, and a single glance usually told you all there was to know about them. This one had seemed much of the same, if bigger and stronger than what he was used to. In that respect, the fire breath had been a nasty surprise.

But as he watched the monster stand up once again, Rean reflected that he had never seen a monster skin change during a fight. The grey, stone-like tones of the beast were now tinted with gold, entire portions of its wings and members taking a metallic quality. Activating his orbment once again, he took advantage of its dazed state to send another fire artes, and watched in dismay the previously effective attack being entirely shrugged off.

"Did-did it spontaneously evolve after absorbing too much orbal energy?" Machias asked, eyes wide. "Can it _do_ that?" Rean honestly had no idea.

"Never mind that" said Elliot, teeth chattering and clearly struggling to keep it together. "Is it _healing_?! Aidios help us!"

He was right, Rean realized with dread. The eye that had been previously mangled by Machias seemed to be whole once again, and the few wounds they had inflicted were closing. This... this was really bad. A sentiment visibly echoed by Machias disgusted groan.

"This is ridiculous!"

Gaius still offered a collected front, but there was no mistaking the slight wobbliness of his stance or the shaking of his arms. Even he was exhausted. "Elliot, you should make a run for the stairs. We'll try to cover you and follow if given the chance."

Was it the best they could achieve, Rean asked himself? Elliot and Machias would probably be safe with this plan, but things would be considerably harder for him and Gaius. Maybe one of them would manage to escape, if the other was in a good enough state to hold off the beast a few seconds. But the remaining one would have little hope.

He drew out a frustrated breath. They were running out of time and options. Already the monster seemed about to attack. With their current level of exhaustion and its own wounds healed, the odds seemed dire.

 _In that case-_

"Stand back!"

The warning was immediately followed by a flaming arrow exploding on impact, ruining the monster's attempt at pouncing. Before it could recuperate, a wave of purple flames washed over the creature, doing little damage but leaving it disoriented and wide-open for the blue haired swordswoman rushing forward. The powerful two handed strike knocked back the beast several paces away as the three newcomers took position among the group.

"You made it!"

The relief in Elliot's voice was palpable, and to pretend this wasn't a shared feeling would have been a lie.

"You certainly have good timing." Gaius quietly chuckled, as Rean nodded in appreciation.

The blonde newcomer sighed in relief. "Seems like you're all okay at least!"

Beside her, the purple haired girl gave them all a shy smile. "I'm sorry we took so long."

It was clear from their scuffed clothes and dirtied faces that the three girls had gone through their own set of challenge during the exploration. The one who had been introduced as Emma was trying hard to catch her breath, preventing with one hand her glasses from falling off with the other gripping an orbal staff, not unlike the one Elliot was wielding. The girl whose ire he had incurred earlier today – Alisa, he remembered – had her blonde hair mucked up with dirt, and there was a faint trace of blood of the sleeve on her uniform; that didn't prevent her red eyes to glare at the monster blocking their path, her mechanical bow at the ready. Only Laura seemed to be mostly unscathed, the tall swordswoman keeping her two handed sword trailed on the opponent.

"So, a gargoyle, is it? I didn't expect to find the Dark Ages alive and well down here." She seemed to size up the monster. "It doesn't seem like it will go down easily."

As if to answer, the beast let out a menacing roar, starting to circle around the group as if searching for the best angle to attack. Still, Rean could feel his hope being rekindled. With this many of them, if they might just be able to find an opening.

"Fine. I guess I'll help out."

The new female voice made Rean risk a glance away from the monster, only to see the small white haired girl standing in the passageway, an impassive expression on her face. The Albarea noble was coming in behind her, his icy blue eyes quickly assessing the situation before slowly drawing his longsword.

"Hmph. So it all comes down to me, then."

The aside glance at Machias was unmistakable, making the later bristle. To his credit though, he did not take the bait, simply clenching his teeth before focusing once again on the monster. Seemingly undaunted by the increased numbers of opponents, the beast took a step forward, and the room exploded into action.

The gargoyle's advance was met with a barrage of projectiles, forcing it to use its wings as improvised shields. Rean moved onward once again, briefly noticing that his battle orbment was now emitting a strange blue light, before bringing his focus back to the fight. As long as it was still in working order, investigating the device could wait. Finding itself surrounded by the Thors freshmen, the creature lashed out all around, swinging its claws and spiked tail in wide arcs while its mouth once again let out a stream of fire. Yet in a surprising display of coordination, the attacks were parried or evaded, while shots and orbal arts kept pouring in, pinning the beast down.

Rean deflected a tail slap meant for Jusis, before retaliating with a diagonal cut, scratching the monster's face. The move left his back exposed to its left paw, but the attempt to take advantage of the opening was simply repelled by Laura's parry. Around them, the silver-haired girl was darting in and out of range, dancing around the strikes sent her way while her dual gunswords alternated between sharp cuts and repeated shots aimed at the creature's joints. Behind them, the ranged combatants kept up their fire support, somehow managing to avoid their close-range allies in the process.

How well this was going was frankly abnormal, Rean offhandedly thought as he delivered another sword slash. While their increased numbers were certainly an advantage, he had expected a lot more confusion and chaos in their ranks. Even when he was just fighting alongside Gaius, they had gotten in each other's ways more than once, despite having a certain degree of familiarity with each other, after fighting side-by-side for two hours in that labyrinth. Similarly, Machias and Elliot had both shown a great deal of trouble to take a shot without risking injuring an ally. With nine of them focused on a single target, those problems should have been exponentially worse.

Yet the exact opposite was happening. Rean saw Gaius stepping aside to give Alisa a clear line of fire when he shouldn't have been able to see her take aim. He watched Jusis instinctively dive into an opening that hadn't existed when he started to move, his path only clearing when Laura broke the creature's guard with a massive overhead strike. He himself managed to somehow coordinate perfectly the timing of his next blow with the blinding flare cast by Emma, despite not knowing she could even do that in the first place. It was as if he was aware of his allies' every move before they were even making it.

In the face of such onslaught, the gargoyle was quickly weakening. Each moment was coming with a new injury suffered, while the few blows that did manage to graze the students were almost immediately healed by a pale, but resolute Elliot. In frustration, it delivered a massive strike from both of its front legs on the ground, cracking the stone floor with enough force to stagger the closest fighters.

The move had put the creature's already injured elbow in Rean's range though, and he didn't let the occasion go. Aiming at the cut, his tachi found its mark, biting deep into the monster's flesh who jerked its head in pain. That was the only opening Laura needed. With a loud battle cry, she swung her massive sword at the creature's exposed neck. The blade only briefly slowed down before cleaving all the way through. The monster's body instantly collapsed as its head rolled away, to the relief of all students.

"Ah!" Machias spat between two hard breaths "Try healing from _that_ , why don't you!"

A collapsing Elliot weakly laughed. "Please don't even joke about it. I don't think I could go on for a second longer."

"We did it!" cheered Alisa while offering Emma a high five, the purple-haired girl hesitantly hesitantly raising her own hand as if not entirely certain of the correct way to proceed. Her relieved smile did mirror her classmate's triumphant grin at least. Well, if this victory didn't warrant some congratulations, Rean didn't know what would. The room itself served as a witness to their struggle,; the floor was cracked in places, the stone walls were showing scorching marks where the monster's breath had hit, and one orbal lamp had been shattered in pieces, courtesy of rifle shot who failed to find its mark.

"What happened there anyway?" asked Elliot, still a little out of breath. "At the end of the battle..."

He had to admit he wondered about that too. And Rean was not alone in that respect, as he watched Alisa frown at the question. "Now that you mention it, I did feel something wash over me for just a second there."

"I noticed my orbment was engulfed in some faint blue light" Machias interjected. "Could that be related?"

Jusis threw him a sceptical look, but the phenomenon was too similar to what Rean had experienced to be a mere coincidence. Beside him, Laura slowly nodded as she minutiously wiped her sword clean.

"I did notice something as we fought. Perhaps it was just the blur of combat, but I felt like I could see everyone's movements in precise details."

Clearly everyone else had the same sensation. In his opinion that could only mean one thing.

"I have the feeling what we just experienced was -"

"The biggest selling point of the almighty ARCUS?" a cheerful voice interrupted. "Give this man a prize!"

Everyone turned to see their smiling instructor standing on the top floor above them, a playful glint shining in her yellow eyes. How long had she been here? Did she watch the whole fight? Rean wasn't sure if knowing she might have been able to jump in at any moment was reassuring or infuriating. Nonetheless, the teacher seemed quite pleased with herself, sauntering down the massive stone stairway to meet them.

"Looks like friendship and teamwork save the day once again! I'm so proud of you guys!" The declaration was only met with deathly silence. "Anyway, that about finishes up today special orienteering exercise..."

Her sentence trailed off as she seemed to become aware of the dubious or angry glares sent her way. Visibly dismayed by the sudden unanimity against her, she looked for a sign of support among her students, only to find none.

"Aww, what's with the long faces? I thought you'd all be happy!" Rean rolled his eyes at her distraught expression, too dramatic to be entirely honest.

"And what are we supposed to be happy about?" retorted Machias, looking unimpressed as he checked his rifle for potential damage.

Alisa massaged her temples. "I have so many questions I'm not even sure where to start."

"I'll take a stab at it." announced Jusis. He clearly was not amused by the whole ordeal. "What exactly is the purpose behind this 'class VII'? And why choose us in particular?"

That, thought Rean, was a pretty good question. He could understand the appeal of trying to mix up nobles and commoners, but that seemed like an awful lot of trouble for simply running a social experiment, especially one that would involve a member of a great house.

"Hm. Well, there's no single, monolithic reason why you all made the list." Sara admitted, looking somewhat more serious for a change. "But if I had to name a major factor, it'd be those ARCUS orbments you've got there."

That word again. Rean was starting to lose patience as well. "And that is?"

"Oh right, I did skip that part over. Well, allow me to introduce you to the _All-Round Communication and Unison System_ , or ARCUS for short." The announcement came with a sweeping gesture at nothing in particular, unless her intention had been for them to pay attention to the bare walls of the room. "The latest generation of battle orbments, developed jointly by the Epstein Foundation and the Reinford Company. Impressive, right?"

That _was_ impressive, Rean had to admit. Technology wasn't his forte, but he doubted anyone in Erebonia wouldn't be familiar with those names. The Epstein Foundation was perhaps the most famous research center of the continent, named after the man who managed to revolutionize orbal science, sending the whole continent through a technological boom. Half a century later, his works continued to inspire researchers across Zemuria, no year passing without a new technological breakthrough occurring. As for the Reinford Company, they were the prominent industrial group in Erebonia, and in a close partnership with the country's military. A joint project from those two groups was bound to be special.

Sara continued her explanation, describing each new point with a raised finger. "Like any battle orbments, they let you use artes. They also have a built-in communication functionality. But their crowning feature is what's known as combat linking. That's the phenomenon you all experienced just now. Doesn't take a genius to imagine how much of an advantage a feature like that would be on a real battlefield."

Well, they didn't have to imagine. After experiencing its effects during the fight, Rean didn't have any doubts about its potential usefulness, though howand why it activated when it did remained unclear. Meanwhile, Sara continued her sales pitch, gushing over her product as if she had been the one to design it in the first place.

"An elite unit that can sense each other's movements, acting in perfect sync even in the most chaotic conditions? You can hardly put a price on that! It could bring about a revolution in the way wars are fought!"

"Hmm" Laura mused, eyeing the device on her wrist with an hesitant look. "It does sound rather..."

"Idealistic" cut the silver-haired girl beside her, looking unimpressed. She seemed to find the monster's body far more interesting than their teacher's explanations, examining it under all its angles while barely paying attention to the ongoing discussion.

"Well yeah," Sara admitted. "The technology is still in its infancy. Some have a natural aptitude for it, others just don't. And out of this year's fresh batch of bright-eyed students, the nine of you turned out to have the highest aptitude. And since aptitude trumps background in class VII, here you are!"

Machias still seemed to have doubts. "But what gives us this 'aptitude' though? How do you measure it? It just seems so random."

"Excuse me, I'd like to get back to something important."

All eyes turned toward Alisa. The twin-tailed archer had seemed to be deep in thoughts for a while, but when she looked at Sara Valestein, Rean couldn't help but flinch at the glint of anger that seemed to lie behind her calm face. At least it wasn't directed at him this time.

"This 'linking' thing is amazing, don't get me wrong. But you mentioned those ARCUS units also being a communication device?"

Come to think of it, that would be rather impressive too. Orbal phones had been a major innovation of the last two decades, but Rean had never heard of a way to make such a device portable.

"Yeah?" agreed Sara hesitantly, as if sensing a trap. "To be honest, I'm surprised you of all people didn't notice this. I would have thought-"

"So let me get this straight," Alisa interrupted once again. "When we ended up thrown into a labyrinth, got split up all over the place and had our life threatened by monsters, we had a way to keep in touch all along and coordinate even at a distance, but you didn't even tell us?"

Sara opened her mouth, closed it, then rubbed the back of her head before laughing awkwardly.

"I kind of forgot?"

Their instructor soon found herself under fire from a constant barrage of outraged complaints, wild accusations and barely veiled sarcasms from her would-be students, answering it all with half-hearted excuses and a sheepish smile.

Why did Rean suddenly have the distinct feeling this was going to be a major fixture of the next two years?

* * *

 **Notes:** Those remembering the game might also remember that in it, the students learn about the fact that their magic wands are also cellphones from the get-go. So why did I change that? While keeping the theme of 'Sara is winging it and did not really think things through' is an added bonus, mostly it's because it always struck me as weird that they didn't use the fact that they could have talked to each other whenever during this portion of the game, instead relying on randomly bumping into each other with everyone basically running in circle without even any attempt at coordination. I mean sure, it makes sense for those who decided to go in alone, but you'd think the ones who joined a group from the get-go would remember this option is also open. So here they just didn't know the option existed. Incredibly minor and nitpicky problem solved!

 **Next time:** Gaius and Emma are not in Texas anymore.


	4. Strangers in strange lands (Gaius, Emma)

" _Travels form youth!"_ Anton the perpetually lost

* * *

April 9th, 1204

It took the better part of the week for Gaius Worzel to realize that maybe he was feeling homesick.

It had been ten days since the entrance ceremony and that hectic introduction course. By now things had settled down a bit. The first week had been spent meeting their various teachers, while professor Valestein – she gave him a bemused look the first time he called her that – held a vote for class representative in order to 'get this over with'. A few classmates suggested to wait a bit, if only to have a better chance to know each other, but were overruled. Thus class VII designated Emma Millstein and Machias Regnitz for the role, probably to play it safe. Surely choosing the two academic prodigies couldn't be the worst idea.

That, or glasses were a prerequisite for the position Gaius was unaware of.

Nonetheless, the last days had been relatively quiet, giving him the chance to get used to his new environment. So far, he didn't think he managed too well.

When he left the Northern Highlands for Erebonia, Gaius had prepared for hard times. Mostly, he had expected ostracism. Some may question the presence of a foreigner in one of Erebonia's finest institutions, especially considering the patriotism some imperial citizens often displayed.

His fears proved mostly unfounded however. The predominant reaction turned out to be curiosity, his large height and darker skin tone drawing attention from the other students. And while he wasn't sure he liked being watched as an exotic peculiarity, at least none of it was actively malicious. And thankfully his own classmates had quickly adjusted.

Ironically, the only derogatory comments that were occasionally thrown his way ended up being about his 'social class'. Apparently some sort of one-sided enmity was beginning to brew between class I and his own after Jusis blew off one of their members at lunch. As a result, some noble freshmen apparently convinced themselves that the rest of class VII was working hard to uproot a member of the four great houses from his natural social circle, possibly to fulfill some sort of reformist agenda. Or so Rean explained to him after a white uniformed student he didn't know explained to him he should 'stop trying to rub elbows with his betters'.

It was all rather harmless in his opinion, though class VII as a whole agreed this was getting annoying. Machias was the most vocal against it, almost blowing up when a noble freshman accused him of trying to befriend Jusis Albarea for his own machinations. Given the obvious enmity between the two, it was hard to think of a more off-base guess.

No, what really ended up bothering him were the little things. Spending most of his day indoor behind a desk instead of riding through the highland plains. The lack in flavor of the Erebonian food. Sleeping on a bed both too small and too soft. Not picking up on common social cues, or needing to have explained cultural references every Erebonian teen seemed to instantly get. Even the winds felt different, colder and more subdued.

All of those minor things were slowly adding up. And his attempts to recreate a bit of his home life style here had been less than fruitful. Trying to cook meals from his homeland proved to be difficult when half the ingredients needed couldn't be found in Trista's general store. His initial interest in the school equestrian club faded quickly when he realized it was all taking place on an enclosed obstacle course, when he had hoped for the occasion of roaming through the countryside. And sleeping on the dorm's wooden floor turned out to be a poor option without the warm furs he was used to.

Gaius tried to not let himself feel too strongly about this. It was only natural he'd need some time to adjust, he told himself. Hopefully he'd get used to it all soon enough. Until then, all he could do was project a strong front in the hope that the facade would become real soon enough. But when night came and he found himself alone with his thoughts, it was hard to not question his reasons for being here. Was simply waiting for things to somehow get better the way to go? Yet he didn't know what he could do instead.

It wasn't all bad though, he tried to remind himself. There was at least one thing that remained familiar: the people.

Well, superficial differences were obvious. A glance would be enough for a knowledgeable observer to guess he wasn't Erebonian. And it was easy for him to take note of everything that distinguished an imperial subject from a highland nomad. The skin tones were different, the clothes were different, even the accent carried subtle variations, despite them sharing the same tongue.

Yet as he observed from the sidelines his classmates engaged in a round of weapon practice, he couldn't help but be reminded that despite the differences, he could read his classmates characters just as well as he did with the members of his clan back at home.

The first week of class VII had been focused on the academic side. Their instructor probably felt like they could use a physical break after their rather intense first day. But now they had assembled in the campus' gymnasium for a first common training session, using padded staffs for some close-quarters light sparring, as a way for Sara to evaluate their level and plan for more specialized lessons down the line. The seriousness of her expression as she explained today's activity was a sharp contrast with her usual fumbling during class, leading Gaius to believe that she might have been more comfortable in her role as combat instructor.

For now, she had assigned them into pairs, their uneven numbers forcing one – namely Gaius himself – to wait for his turn. That suited him just fine. It meant he could observe his classmates, and through it hopefully understand them a little better.

Unlike Rean, he didn't know the names of the styles on display, or how to call a particular move. But one thing he had learned during his own years of training was to read someone through their form. In its own way, fighting was a language, and one that made it hard to lie. You just had to learn the signs.

On one end of the room, the four ranged specialists were practicing under the watchful eye of Sara Valestein. Though it wasn't their weapon of choice, it only made sense to make sure they wouldn't be entirely helpless in close quarters. After all, a foe would rarely accommodate one's preferences. So Elliot exercised with Alisa, while Emma and Machias squared off, their instructor occasionally chiming in to correct a mistake or to offer advices.

Everything in Elliot's body language showed his uneasiness. He didn't so much attack as weakly flail his weapon in a general direction, apparently more afraid of actually hitting something than missing. And his defense mostly consisted of holding his staff in front of him, closing his eyes and hoping the opponent would be kind enough to hit it instead.

It was hard not feeling sorry for him, Gaius thought. From their common adventure on the old school grounds, he could tell the red-headed teen was a truly kind soul, and their interactions since then only strengthening that initial feeling. But Gaius was beginning to suspect Elliot hadn't come to Thors by choice. He was as much afraid of hurting someone than of being hurt himself, and it was unthinkable to imagine such a boy – they were both seventeen, but Elliot seemed so much younger! - sent on a battlefield after graduation.

His opponent offered a stark contrast. From a technical standpoint, Alisa wasn't much better than Elliot, though she seemed more athletic. But her somewhat clumsy attempts showed a much more determined streak, despite an obvious reluctance at actually hitting her target. Usually Gaius would caution not to underestimate an opponent, but he was pretty sure he would feel bad too, if he was in her position. Padded or not, getting whacked by a staff did hurt, and hitting the red-headed teenager was like kicking a puppy. Which left Alisa in a somewhat frustrating position, with perfectionism, compassion and stubbornness each battling out for dominance.

The other pair had a different challenge to solve. In many respects, Machias seemed the most ready of the beginner's quatuor for the rigours of close range combat. While he obviously had no more experience with a melee weapon than the others, he was taller, heavier and in good shape. He also seemed to share a certain stubbornness with Alisa, that could push him to try his best even in an unfamiliar situation. Even his inexperienced attempts pictured a proud and steadfast soul, if maybe a little hot-blooded.

He also seemed incredibly reluctant to even consider attacking Emma, which was going to be a problem.

At first glance, this wasn't too different from Alisa not wanting to hurt Elliot. The purple-haired girl shared with the red-head a certain uncertainty in her behaviour, and her gentle features looked as unthreatening as they got. Yet she seemed more collected, her moves having a certain thoughtfulness about them that Elliot was lacking. To Gaius, it looked like she was experimenting, trying to figure out which method would wield the best result. Her form was obviously flawed, and she didn't seem to have the right constitution to really fight on the frontlines, but her efforts were worthy of recognition.

He doubted Machias saw any of that. From what he knew of their newly-minted vice-representative, he suspected that his reluctance wasn't about Emma in particular, but more about her gender in general. His classmate seemed to hold himself to certain chivalric standards when it came to the opposite gender. While Gaius could understand it, that felt like a dangerous attitude to hold in a combat academy. He doubted most of their female classmates, not to mention their instructor, would be overly impressed.

Nonetheless, observing his comrades felt like it gave him new insights on their character. It wasn't a substitute for actual conversation of course, but it never hurt to have a general idea of what a person could be about.

Of course, it was also possible that he was reading way too much into their laboured attempts at melee fighting.

The other four students were another story. Professor Valestein had trusted them to know roughly what to do, leaving them relatively unsupervised. For now, Rean and Jusis were carefully trading blows while Laura and Fie trained together.

Jusis was an interesting puzzle. Every move he made seemed to be fashioned as a display of superiority. Not thoughtless arrogance, but a demonstration of confidence in himself and in his upbringing. That attitude permeated his day-to-day life, and was shining through his swordplay. Well, staffplay. Yet there was also a certain desperation to it, as if he had something to prove. To whom, Gaius had no idea. It was as if there was a weight on his shoulders that he couldn't quite shake off.

The Nord didn't know much about how this country raised its nobles. But if Jusis Albarea could be used as a reference, he felt a little sorry for them.

However, if the other aristocrat of class VII felt the same shackles, there was no sign of it in her body language. Gaius remembered that Rean had heaped praises on the girl during their orienteering exercise, and her actions in battle that day certainly proved him right. Still, now that the spearman could focus on her, he couldn't help but be impressed.

Laura's skills were undeniable. But more than that, there was a purity in her style that made her look unshakeable. Every strike seemed a challenge for the world to meet her head-on, and for herself to go even further. When the other members of class VII, himself included, still seemed to seek a direction, Laura looked like she knew her path already, and was determined to cut her way through. Gaius didn't know much about the Arseid school, but it seemed the knightly traditions of old were alive and well in the Empire if the blue-haired teen was anything to go by.

On the other end of the spectrum was Rean. After fighting side-by-side with him, Gaius held his swordsmanship in high regard, and he appreciated the level-headedness he had displayed in the face of danger. But now that he was given the chance to focus on him, the Nord was struck by his comrade's... reluctance? He had a hard time putting his finger on it, but it seemed to him like there was something missing in the black-haired student's form. Maybe he was holding back? No, this wasn't it. He wasn't even certain that Rean was completely aware of this imbalance. Whatever it was though, it certainly had him curious.

Fie on the other hand? _That_ was definitely her holding back. The girl seemed extremely guarded, leaving Gaius' reading at a loss. Her motions were almost mechanical, revealing nothing of herself that she didn't choose to show. That in itself was an impressive accomplishment that belied her young age and apparent frail build, but one that raised many questions. And it was clear she was limiting herself, something that Laura seemed to have picked upon during their spar. What she thought of it was hard to say.

What happened next did nothing to change Gaius' mind. The Arseid noble delivered a strong yet predictable swing, fully expecting the younger girl to dodge. A second later, the staff impacted the silver-haired girl on the temple, making her crash down as the other pairs stopped their own training to check on the commotion.

"Oh dear!" Emma ran to the downed girl's side. "Are you alright?"

"Ow."

The deadpan delivery seemed to indicate Fie was well enough. To Gaius, it almost had seemed like she had allowed herself to be hit, and judging by Laura's slightly confused frown, he wasn't alone in thinking so. Still the tall girl kneeled beside Emma to check on her fallen opponent.

"I am sorry." she said, looking troubled. "I should have been more careful."

"Meh. It happens." Fie shrugged off the apology while being cautiously raised to a sitting position, looking nonplussed at the concern displayed by the rest of class VII. Sara Valestein was the last one to approach.

"What happened, Fie?" she asked.

"Nothing." said the small girl. "She just hits really, really hard."

Their instructor appeared doubtful, but chose not to comment. "Can you continue?" she asked instead.

"Nope." answered Fie. "In fact, I think I may have a concussion. I'd better go to the infirmary just in case."

The calmness of her tone belied the potentially serious nature of her condition. A hit to the head was not to be taken lightly even with training weapons, and Laura _was_ hitting quite hard... Still, it was hard to feel worried when the whole thing seemed more like an excuse to ditch a tedious activity. Sara frowned as she scrutinized their junior student, maybe looking for any sign of dishonesty. Fie maintained her blank expression.

The instructor admitted defeat with a sigh. "Okay then. I'll bring you to Beatrix. Gaius, would'ya pair up with Laura?"

"Of course, professor Valestein." Standing up, he made his way to the weapon rack.

"Urgh, don't call me that," she whined. "Makes me feel old. Anyway, I'll be right back. Play nice, kids!"

With those words, the duo left the gymnasium, leaving eight students to their own devices. The pairs slowly assembled again, quietly commenting on the incident. Gaius grabbed a training staff before walking to Laura. She was still looking at the exit with a thoughtful expression

"I cannot seem to get a read on that girl."

Gaius wasn't sure if she talked to him or to herself. It didn't prevent him from agreeing. "She certainly seems like an interesting case." he said. "I think she's going to be okay though."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I reckon you're right." Laura answered off-handedly. "Still, this one was my mistake, I suppose." She shook her head, before focusing on him.

"Do you want to take a minute?" he asked.

She accepted his offer with a nod. "If you don't mind." Laura grabbed her waterskin, drinking from it in small gulps. With that done, she faced him once again. "I suppose we haven't talked much until now. How is Erebonia treating you?"

Gaius' smile fell a little, as he was reminded of his homesickness. He didn't want to burden others with his issues, but an honest question deserved an honest answer. "It is a challenge" he said. "Things are quite different from what I'm used to. But I'll manage."

Laura seemed sympathetic. "I understand. I do confess missing Legram at times." The visible confusion on Gaius' face prompted her to explain further. "My home. It's an old castle town in the south-east, near lake Ebel. The ancient fortress standing above the waters was always a comforting sight to me. I imagine this must be worse for you."

Gaius could definitely relate. "I do miss the wilderness of the Highlands. Trista is a fine town, but I can't help but feel like I have stepped into a smaller world than the one I knew. Ironic, considering how vast the Empire is compared to my homeland." He grew thoughtful. "When I was younger, I wanted to learn how to draw, if only to be able to recreate the landscapes that awed me so. I never did find the time though. And the mountains weren't going anywhere. Or so I believed."

"Then why not learn it now?" Laura asked.

The suggestion caught him off-guard. It had been a long time since he considered that, and he never imagined he could find the time at Thors. Yet the blue-haired swordswoman seemed to think it was possible.

"I believe Thors has an art club. Maybe you could check it out if you have yet to pick an extracurricular," she continued. "I do not know if you'd be able to recreate the landscapes of your youth from memory alone. I'm afraid I don't know much in that field. But even then, it isn't like you'll never return. This could give you a goal to strive for the next time you see your home."

That... could work, Gaius realized. It would give him a concrete objective to strive for, all while fulfilling an interest he thought he had left behind. Maybe this was the first step he was looking for.

"I might very well follow your suggestion" he said. "Thank you. You have given me much to consider."

Laura answered with a polite bow. "No need to thank me. When it comes to Thors, we are all foreigners after all. We should do our best to support each other in order to grow. At least that's what I think." Setting aside the waterskin, she grabbed her training staff once more. "Well, I believe that's enough rest for now. Shall we begin?"

There was a glint in her amber eyes, and Gaius realized a smile had formed on his lips as well. It was clear she was looking forward to this, her almost childish eagerness contrasting the poise and thoughtfulness she displayed during their conversation. Feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders for the first time that week, he gave the signal to begin their mock battle.

Then she drove her staff through his stomach, and he realized Fie had been right. She did hit really, really hard.

* * *

After a week at Thors Academy, Emma Millstein had to finally admit to herself: she was in over her head.

Well, she definitely was out of her depths when it came to the melee training, at the very least. The weapon practice had been exhausting. The class had finished half an hour ago, leaving Emma barely feeling any muscle in her body. That was going to hurt tomorrow, she just knew it. Still, rather than going back to class VII's dorms to collapse on her bed – a tempting course of action – Emma decided to move toward the old schoolhouse instead. With a couple of hours left before sunset and most of her classmates probably too tired to really pay her any mind, this was a rare opportunity.

The stroll through the woods was a welcome escape from the crowded halls of Thors Academy. A few hundred students might have not seemed like much for most, and the town of Trista was positively tiny compared to the massive imperial capital of Heimdallr, but for someone like her who grew up in a small community with a single person her own age around, the change had been drastic. Emma didn't dislike the other students, even if she didn't know them all that well yet, but being constantly surrounded by people was overwhelming. Walking among the green trees in Thors back yard was a good way to escape it all, at least for a while. The only noises were the chirping of the birds, the wind rustling through the trees, and her footsteps on the muddy ground. With the dimming sunlight filtering through the leaves, there was something almost magical to this place, and the young woman relished every second of her newfound peace.

Even at her leisurely pace, it wasn't long before she reached the small clearing where the old school remained out of sight from the main campus. The building was almost an ominous presence in this otherwise serene forest, all dark stones and sharp angles, with barely any window to let the light through. Compared to the newer university hall, designed with light colours and elegant curves to provide the students a pleasant working environment, the abandoned structure seemed positively austere, some would even say gloomy. Emma didn't mind though. In a way, this too was more familiar to her than the modern aesthetics of the main facility.

As expected, the clearing seemed deserted. A couple of outside benches remained unoccupied, and a few orbal lights had been installed to provide a night trail to the main campus if needed, but the building itself had been surrendered to moss and vines. Still, the walls showed little to no signs of decay, remaining impervious to the wear of time. Not that surprising, thought Emma. Those who built it knew how to make things last.

But as nostalgic as the sight could be for the purple-haired student, it was also a stark reminder of how daunting the road ahead of her was. The orienteering exercise had left no doubt in Emma's mind: what she was looking for was most likely lying in the depths of this place. But that knowledge alone did her little good; instead it made her acutely aware how close, yet how far her goals remained.

The first obvious obstacle in her path was the sturdy iron chain keeping the main door firmly locked. Emma was confident she could open it if she tried, but then what? The introductory test last week had shown the dangers of this place. More than what she could handle alone, certainly. Without Laura and Alisa to escort her, she doubted she would have escaped that labyrinth unscathed, and she had no doubt more challenges waited in the lower levels. Even now, she could feel it – this place had awakened. Rushing in alone would only earn her an early grave.

The most convenient solution, she felt, was to explore the place as part of class VII. There was safety in numbers, and some of the others showed they could handle themselves well in the face of danger. But for that to happen, they'd need a teacher's approval, perhaps even the principal's. And right now, the schoolhouse had been deemed as off-limit for everyone. Perhaps she could ask Instructor Valestein for an opportunity to use the place as a training ground? But the suggestion would seem strange if it came from her. Maybe Celine would have an idea? She'd ask her later. Otherwise the place might remain closed to students this year – or worse, the academy could bring in external investigators to explore the old schoolhouse. Then her mission would be in jeopardy.

Emma was slowly coming to terms with the fact that her success or failure could depend on things she had little way to influence. The thought that all the time and efforts training for this moment might be for naught was enough to almost make her feel ill.

Emma couldn't help but groan aloud, almost collapsing on the nearest bench. "Why did I think this could ever be a good idea?"

And to think she had been so eager to leave home and come to Thors. To go out in the world, fulfill her duties, and maybe find a lead about her old friend. And yet after just one week, her initial optimism had all but vanished. She wasn't out of options yet, but already the fear of ruining everything she worked for all her life was beginning to settle in her heart.

Emma let out another loud sigh. "What should I do now?"

"Nng."

The purple-haired girl froze as a mumble answered her musings, and the back of her heel hit something soft on the ground. A second later, she saw a mop of unruly white hair peak from under the bench, and found herself starring at a pair of half-asleep green eyes.

"Fie?!"

The small girl answered with a massive yawn, stretching her arms while still sitting on the ground, seemingly unconcerned by the peculiarity of the current situation. Quickly standing up, Emma offered the younger girl a hand, doing her best to brush off her dirtied uniform in the process.

"I'm sorry! Are you all right? I thought you were in the infirmary!"

"I'm fine," Fie said, not minding Emma fussing over her. "Beatrix let me go after making sure I was okay."

Emma wasn't familiar with Thors infirmary head yet, but that sounded more than a little irresponsible to her. Well, her classmate _looked_ okay at least. Though finding someone with a potential concussion unconscious in an isolated place ringed all sorts of alarm's bells.

"Shouldn't you have returned to the gymnasium then?"

"Maybe?" The silver-haired girl looked like the thought never even crossed her mind. "I went for a nap instead."

The brazenness of the confession was a bit off-putting. Shouldn't getting caught playing truant be a source of embarrassment? The very thought of being thrust in a similar situation was mortifying to the academic top-scorer, though she supposed that might say more about herself.

"But why here?" she asked. "I mean, there are probably better places to sleep, right?"

"Under the bench is better," answered Fie, apparently misunderstanding the question. The girl was now sitting on said bench, looking slightly bored. "You're protected from wind and sunlight, and people are less likely to notice you."

Not quite what Emma meant to ask, though now she was wondering why Fie went straight to explaining that part. Oh dear Aidios, this wasn't the first time the girl was found in such a situation and had to explain it, was it? That only raised more questions. For now, she settled for sitting alongside her classmate and simply reformulate her earlier query.

"I meant, why here?" She gestured to the clearing and the old building. "Isn't this place a bit far-away from the campus?"

"Yeah, that's the point," Fie unabashedly answered. "It'd be annoying if Sara or that stick-in-the-mud vice-principal were to find me like that during school hours."

"Now that's not very nice," Emma gently chided. Vice-principal Heinrich had seemed like a stern man to her, and probably wasn't the warmest people around, but that simply meant he took his duties seriously, right?

"Also, this place is interesting," Fie continued, apparently ignoring the rebuke. Her gaze was focused on the old schoolhouse, before suddenly zeroing in on Emma. "What about you?"

"M-me?" answered Emma, not liking how high-pitched that single word came out. Nor was she liking how _focused_ Fie's gaze could be. The smaller girl had seemed half-asleep a second ago, but was now giving her a piercing glance, waiting for an answer.

The shiver that ran through Emma's spine had little to do with the coolness of the evening spring. Would claiming curiosity be seen as suspicious? 'Interesting', Fie had called the building. In what sense did she mean that? Could she know something? That seemed impossible, and yet Emma couldn't quite cast aside the nagging doubts in her mind, nor her nervousness to suddenly being the one under scrutiny.

"I simply wondered about that underground complex we were in last week. That certainly left an impression, you know?"

She finished her sentence with a nervous laugh that probably only made her seem more suspicious. The other girl simply hummed at the answer, her blank expression not giving away much of her own thoughts. Emma managed to give a smile that she hoped wasn't looking too desperate.

"That was quite an ordeal, wasn't it? Come to think of it, it might have been worse for you. You look like you're a bit younger than the others." Redirect, redirect.

"I'm fifteen," Fie eventually answered, confirming Emma's suspicions. That was two years younger than her and most of the others, probably. She didn't even know one could join Thors that early. Wasn't there an age limit in place? Still.

"That's impressive," she said, finding herself sincerely meaning it. "You seemed to handle the danger so well. And to pass the entrance exam that early..." Could she be some sort of child prodigy? "If you don't mind me asking, what was your ranking?"

She realized the question might have seemed condescending coming from the one who had basically be introduced to the class as the top performer in that exam. But Emma was genuinely curious now. She didn't care overly much about ranks, but having a study partner on her level could prove stimulating.

"I came in last."

The admission didn't seem to bother Fie, but Emma was taken aback nonetheless. That still wasn't anything to scoff at, given Thors stringent standards, but it was hard not to feel let down. And now she felt bad for putting her classmate on the spot, even if there was just the two of them.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't want to sound like- I mean, it's still very good that you could-" she stopped herself, wondering if there was any way for her to complete that sentence without sounding patronizing. Probably not. "Sorry," she lamely finished.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, as if a solid wall separated each side of the bench they were sitting on. Fie was still looking impassive, starring at a couple of birds hidden in the wood's foliage. For her part, Emma was doing her best to not fidget with her braid, a bad habit that seemed to always come back when she was getting nervous. She was coming at a blank on what to say, but didn't want to run away from the conversation either. She didn't know Fie very well, and the girl was perhaps the hardest person to read she ever met, but the prolonged pause might indicate she wasn't as unaffected by the topic as she seemed.

Or maybe Emma was projecting again. That certainly was possible too.

An idea suddenly struck her. "How about I help you out? If you need some tutoring, I'd be glad to assist!"

Fie's expression didn't change, but Emma could have sworn a flicker of interest flashed through her eyes. She held her breath.

"What's in it for you?"

"Well, nothing really," she admitted, scratching her cheek. "I'd just like to help, and it's an area where I'm confident in. And maybe it's a way to get to know each other better?" she finished, almost bashful.

Right now, Emma couldn't claim to have made a real friend among her classmates. She got along with each of them just fine, and she had a couple of pleasant conversations with Alisa, but she, like the others, was still testing the waters, so to speak. The prospect of making new friends for the first time in forever was both scary and exciting. And while Fie seemed strange in more ways than one, she still seemed like someone worth knowing.

Finally, the silver-haired girl gave a short nod. "Deal."

"Really?"

"Ja."

Emma reminded herself that this was all a secondary concern. Establishing good rapports with her classmates would be beneficial to her goals, and that should be the end of it. It was all practical, nothing more. Still, she couldn't suppress that feeling of elation soaring in her chest, or hide the beaming smile she didn't even realize she was making.

When the two girls returned together to their dorms, Emma felt like her steps had become just a bit lighter.

* * *

 **Notes:** well, that took forever. Emma's segment simply refused to write itself. Hopefully the final result comes out alright.

 **Next time:** Alisa and Machias have a problem. They each have a different way to tackle it.


	5. The long road (Alisa, Machias)

_"Life is often simple; we just insist on making it complicated."_ \- Yun Ka Fai the Sword Hermit, _Reflections on the Path_

* * *

April 17th 1204

It had been a little more than two weeks since Class VII was formed, and Alisa had an ongoing problem named Rean Schwarzer.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Rean hadn't been the problem exactly. If she was being honest with herself, this whole situation was mostly on her. So, okay, maybe she overreacted to what in retrospect had clearly been an accident. But who wouldn't?! What kind of girl would take calmly to having a guy's face planted in her chest without any form of consent?! So clearly her immediate outburst had been appropriate, right? And maybe, _maybe_ the slap that followed had been a bit much, but still, an understandable reaction, most would surely agree? Yet instead of this being the end of this incident, she let her embarrassment get the better of her and began giving Rean the cold shoulder, because frankly this probably was the only way for her to interact with him without spontaneously melting in shame. But after two weeks of that treatment, even she had to admit this was becoming ridiculous.

As if this wasn't enough, there was also the matter of that absurd charade she gave her classmates about her last name. Her consistent refusal to reveal it earned more than a few raised eyebrows. She even went as far as begging her teachers to address her by her first name; they had humoured her for the time being, but it was only a matter of time before someone slept up. In fact it almost happened already, with instructor Artheim catching herself at the last moment. So now she was the weirdo called Alisa R as far as her classmates were concerned. Not to mention the first one a bit curious about it would simply have to take a look at the school registry, where her full name was on display for the world to see. Not that it would really matter, since _hiding it had been a stupid idea from the very start, great job here Alisa, what were you thinking_.

Well, she knew what she had been thinking. After a lifetime of getting privileged treatment and deference simply due to her last name back in Roer, she had wanted to escape that and simply earn her peer's approval due to her own merits. So on paper, preventing her last name from being known had made perfect sense at the time. Except she ended up being classmates with an _Albarea_ , a _Regnitz_ and an _Arseid_ – and she also could have sworn the Craig name was somewhat familiar, though she couldn't quite place it yet – making her own surname not that big of a deal, comparatively speaking. So now she was looking weird for concealing it, and would look even weirder when that cat got out of the bag, which was of course bound to happen sooner or later. This year had barely began, and it was already shaping up to be an absolute nightmare, and an entirely self-inflicted one at that.

There was no way she could carry on like that for a whole year. Well, the issue of her family would have to wait for now, first she had to deal with the Rean Schwarzer fiasco. Meaning it was time for her to swallow her pride and – she scowled - apologize.

Of course, this was easier said than done. Ideally, she'd have liked her excuses to be given in private, without involving the rest of class VII. That meant the classroom and the dorms were right out. All she had to do was to get Rean alone during a free period away from class, apologize, and be done with it. Simple enough, right? Well, not quite. The first problem was that Rean was hard to catch. Instead of joining a school club like any normal person would, he apparently spent his days running all around Thors like some sort of madman, talking to everyone and apparently seeking problems to solve. No-one was quite sure if this was done at the behest of the student council, of instructor Sara, of provisor Vandyck, or even if this was just a hobby of his, but as a result, it was incredibly hard to pin him down around the campus – even when one student could point her in the right direction, she could be sure he no longer would be there by the time she showed up.

And unfortunately, in the rare moments where she ended up finding him – or more appropriately, where _he_ ended up finding _her_ – her embarrassment usually came back full force, leaving her apologies stuck in her throat. It wasn't her fault, he kept surprising her! Of course she would need a moment to prepare! Really, how inconsiderate could he- no. No, she wasn't falling down that road again. So okay, getting him alone and saying sorry didn't seem like it'd happen anytime soon. Clearly it was time to call for help, her pride be damned. Surely one of the other girls of class VII would know what to do? Well okay, maybe not Fie – the small girl didn't seem particularly adept at socializing – but Laura and Emma would definitely be able to provide sound advice, right? Alisa decided to ask the Viscount's daughter first. She didn't know Laura all that well yet, but it was clear the noblewoman was approachable, cool-headed, insightful, confident and always willing to help, making her a natural choice to turn to.

She forgot to take one thing into account, though.

"I'm afraid I fail to see the problem here. If you feel the need to apologize, then simply do so. There is no need to complicate things, I believe."

Okay, so in retrospect, she should have known Laura would be useless for this. The knight-in-training probably slew her own sense of shame in personal combat a long time ago, or something. Emma, though! Emma could definitely help! After all, the newly-minted class president apologized over the smallest offences that mostly only existed in her own head, so clearly she had a lot of experience to offer in that domain. Confident that her second choice would be the right one, Alisa managed to intercept the violet-haired girl as she was about to leave their dorm for their morning classes. She seemed surprised to see her waiting in the common hall, but nonetheless bowed in greetings.

"Oh, good morning Alisa. I'm sorry I didn't see you, I was thinking about our upcoming practical exam, you know?"

See? The conversation had barely started, and already an apology over nothing. A professional at work, truly.

"Don't worry about it," Alisa answered. "Say, Emma, I was wondering, do you have some time? I need your help on a... delicate matter."

The class president seemed delighted at that prospect, if her beaming smile was to be trusted. Was she that eager to please? Or could it be that she simply relished the prospect of making a friend over this? Now that she thought about it, Alisa realized she had barely interacted with her various classmates, so lost in her own personal drama. Another personal failure to add to the list, she supposed, and one she vowed to correct as soon as possible. She could certainly do worse than Emma as a first friend, at least.

"Of course! Do you need help to study? I'm already planning to help Fie catch up to the curriculum, but I'm sure I can arrange something for you too-"

Alisa raised her hand before the other girl got too carried away.

"Not that kind of problem. My academic studies are fine, I think."

More than fine, in fact. If there was one thing she was confident about, it was her academic performances. Maybe she was not quite at the level of apparent geniuses like Emma or extreme workaholics like the Regnitz boy, but she _did_ score in the top 20 of the entrance exam of Thors Academy, which was renowned for its difficulty. Really, give her a quadratic equation on the inner mechanisms of orbal energy conservation over her current troubles any time.

"So, you are aware of my current disagreement with Rean Schwarzer, right?"

"Y-yes?"

The honor student expression grew more guarded, and just a tiny bit anxious, as if she just had been thrown into a minefield, with one wrong word potentially getting her blown to smithereens. Alisa supposed she couldn't blame her for that, though she couldn't quite suppress her own annoyance at the sight.

"I think we can all agree that this whole affair would better be forgotten by everyone involved, sooner rather than later. As such, I'd like to end this feud with as little fuss as possible." Alisa's attempt at keeping her tone all business-like began to falter. "I was wondering if you... could... well, huh, help with that."

"Um, okay?" Emma still seemed unsure about the whole thing. "I'm not sure what you want me to do, though."

"Advices, Emma, I need advices! I can't just blurt out an apology in the middle of class for everyone to hear!"

The flash of doubt that went through Emma's eyes told Alisa the other girl would have been fine suggesting exactly that. Glad she nipped that one in the bud, then, she didn't need another Laura. She wanted _sensible_ ideas, not a way to commit social suicide! A frown was enough to get that point across, making the other girl flinch in the process. Back home, Alisa had been told more than once that her red eyes made her glare all the more intimidating. It wasn't something she could do anything about, but it occasionally came in handy.

"Okay, so, an apology, but not in front of everyone. Then maybe after class?"

"Already tried, the guy is impossible to catch. Always on some errand or another. It's like he pissed off instructor Valestein and she decided to dump all her workload on him in retaliation."

"O-oh, I guess that's true."

The purple-haired girl grew thoughtful, a small frown on her face. At least now she was really _thinking_ about it. Alisa could feel her sense of hope being rekindled.

"Then... maybe, simply treat him nicer? I don't know, like helping him in class with passed notes, or..."

"Ugh, cheat sheets? What is this, kindergarten? How could this possibly-"

"Ah."

An new voice interrupted her rant. Walking down the stairs of the dorm were coming Elliot Craig and...

Rean Schwarzer. Of course.

Automatically, she went into defence mode. Before she even had time to think about it, she was sizing him up, arms crossed, a disapproving hum escaping her lips. In return, Rean looked like the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlights, eyeing her as if she was about to make her bow appear out of thin air to riddle him with holes. By her side, Emma handled the situation with much more social grace, offering the two newcomers a polite bow, a pleasant smile and a casual greeting.

"Good morning."

"Y-yeah, good morning."

Rean answered the class representative, but his gaze was still on her, as if fearing losing sight of her would give the chance to enact a swift and terrible retribution upon him. On her hand, Alisa was beginning to panic. This was her chance! She already fessed up to Emma, that left only Elliot as an eyewitness to the scene, and the boy was relatively harmless. Yet the words would not come.S-she wasn't ready! She needed time, time to prepare, time to-

"Morning!" cheerfully answered the red-headed boy, apparently oblivious to the tension in the room. "Are you two on the way to school?"

An out! Elliot just gave her an out!

"Y-yeah! Come on Emma, we're going to be late."

She hoped no-one else noticed the tinge of desperation that laced her voice. Without even looking at the other girl, Alisa swiftly walked out of the dorm hall, her pace as fast as possible without straight up running. A few moments later, she was alone in the garden park, trying to calm her beating heart... and resist the urge to bash her head against the nearest tree. Why!? This had been an almost perfect chance, Aidios be damned! Beside her, she heard Emma slowly approaching, having apparently left the two boys to go after her. The class president didn't speak straight away, apparently weighting her words carefully.

"U-um. you know, that was probably a good occasion to-"

"I KNOW!"

The two girls remained in silence for a couple of minutes, the class president patiently waiting for Alisa to regain some semblance of composure. This was terrible. She had been thrown into Gehenna, with seemingly no way out, this was the only explanation for her predicament -no. She still had one option. As much as she hated it, clearly the current situation called for desperate measures. With an uneasy – and almost desperate - smile, she managed to meet Emma's worried gaze almost without flinching.

"Sooo, notes in classes, huh?" The words left an ashen taste in her mouth. "Do... do you think he'd rather need help in orbal theory or Erebonian history? I think I did see him struggle a bit with that last one?"

This year was going to be _awful_.

* * *

It had been a little more than two weeks since Class VII was formed, and Machias had an ongoing problem named Jusis Albarea.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The insufferable nobleman was only partially responsible of his current foul mood – though nowadays the mere sight of the Albarea jerk was enough to make his blood boil, and he couldn't remember any exchange with him that didn't immediately turn into a verbal spar. But the real problem was much larger than a single individual. His blonde classmate might have been the worst of the bunch, but as far as he was concerned, the entire corps of Thors noble freshmen were the reflect of their social class: callous, entitled and arrogant.

When he had enrolled at Thors, he had hoped the class separation between nobles and commoners would make his stay at the academy tolerable. The perspective of having to share a campus with those self-righteous elites was none too pleasant – and could threaten to open up a wound that never really healed – but he convinced himself that all he had to do was to stick to his studying and interact as little as possible with class I and II. He had his own goals and ambitions, Thors Academy was the best way to fulfil them, and he'd be damned if he'd let a few nobles hinder him with their mere presence.

Of course, that line of thinking got thrown into disarray when it turned out he was to share a class with them. And by them, he meant Jusis.

He briefly wondered why he didn't feel the same animosity toward Laura, who was after all as much a noble as Albarea. Was it because of her gender? He hoped not, that would be _incredibly_ shallow of him. No, Machias decided. His tolerance for the knight-in-training was most likely due to the fact she showed nothing but politeness and courtesy toward him and his other classmates; and that she had a really, really big sword, making any prospect of openly antagonizing her hazardous to his health. At least Jusis stuck to harsh words and cutting barbs; he suspected the Arseid heiress to be more direct when it came to expressing her displeasure.

The Albarea scion was insufferable enough for two, anyway.

Needless to say, this made his stay at Thors stressful. So far, his main method of coping has been to threw himself in his work. Neither Jusis nor his noble peers would be brazen enough to bother him in the library, not with the librarian on the lookout for any troublemaker. Instructor Thomas Lysander might have seemed carefree, but he was still rather protective of _his_ domain.

Plus, being able to show up those pretentious nobles come the midterm exams was a worthy goal in itself. Not that he needed the incentive, Machias always prided himself on his academic performances. Coming only second in Thors' entrance exam had actually stung a little, though knowing Emma Millstein was also of commoner's background made it easier to swallow. That she was chosen above him as class president despite not even wanting the position to begin with was a little bit vexing though. Especially since Jusis had obviously relished the opportunity to cast the decisive vote. Jerk.

Being designed as the class vice-president felt a bit hollow in light of that, especially since he seriously doubted a class of nine even needed one. But their instructor had insisted, apparently eager to have people she could offload her own duties too. So here they were a rushed election later. Well, nothing to be done about it. Machias would be happy to put that episode behind him, and just focus on his studies, dodging unpleasant company in the process.

Unfortunately, Machias couldn't stay holed in the library forever. The final deadline for each student's choice in extracurricular activities was coming fast, and he wanted to at least check on a few clubs to see if something was worth his time. So far, this had been a disappointing endeavour. The few clubs he visited didn't really manage to hold his interest. And his stroll through the academy hallways weren't without dangers. Namely-

"Hey, Regnitz! Are you and your father done plotting everyone's demise for the week already?"

-that.

The voice came just as he exited the main building through the inner garden courtyard. Turning around, Machias was unsurprised to see a white-uniform wearing student, with groomed short black hair, haughty blue eyes and perfectly punchable white teeth, lazily leaning back on a linoeum tree. Machias saw him for the first time in his life, yet as far as he was concerned, he was but an umpteenth interchangeable face ever fitting the same archetype. His death glare was returned in kind.

The smart move would be to just ignore the jeer. But he would be damned if he let that pompous snot get the last word. Stopping in his tracks, he offered the noble student a clenched smile that looked more like a snarl.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know about that." he answered with the mock politeness so many nobles tended to display. "My father is far too busy dealing with the various messes you nobles left behind with your _calamitous_ governance of the capital. I'll be sure to notify you when he has enough free time to play one of your frivolous games."

The noble's back straightened, and he slowly made his way to Machias, leaving the two of them standing face-to-face, trying to murder each other with their mind. The green-haired student felt a petty satisfaction when he noticed his vis-à-vis had to slightly look up to meet his eyes. That wasn't enough to make him back down though.

"So that's how it is. It must be nice being so blind to the real world. Then again, what else could one expected from a _parvenu_ such as yourself."

Machias sneered back. "I'll take that word as a compliment. Better that than being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Can you even feed yourself, or do you need a servant to hold your fork?"

The noble's teeth clenched, and for a moment Machias was sure this confrontation would turn physical. He found the option oddly attractive right now, he realized. Still, the other teenager managed a semblance of self-control, and with a last glare, walked past him instead, almost shoving him in the process, before entering the school's main building. A low growl escaped class VII's vice-president, but he otherwise took no step to follow.

"Well, that was tense."

Machias whirled around, ready to square off with whatever friend that insufferable jerkass had waiting in the wings. To his mild relief, the student at the other end of the garden was in green uniform, marking him as one member of the commoner's classes. In fact, his opened-up shirt, loosely adjusted tie and rolled-up sleeves gave him an almost sloppy look. That headband holding back his messy grey hair was certainly not approved by school regulations either. If Machias didn't know any better, he'd have thought he managed to stumble upon a bona fide school delinquent.

Of course there were no such type attending an establishment as prestigious as Thors... right?

He must have been still glaring, because the other students held up his hands in mock surrender. "Woah there, no need to look so pissed! Didn't mean to eavesdrop, I was just passing by when I heard your, well, conversation."

Machias let out a sigh, trying to relax a little bit. The other student didn't deserve to be the target of his current mood.

"Sorry, I'm afraid this day have been... trying."

And if he heard one more sneer or jibe about his father when walking around campus, Aidios help him, _he was going to throttle someone_ , school regulations be damned.

The grey-haired student smiled indulgently. "Yeah, I can see that." He looked back at the door by which the noble exited earlier. "You know, Alexis isn't such a bad guy when you get to know him."

Machias sniffed his disapproval. "I seriously doubt it." He didn't even bother to hide his scepticism.

"I'm serious! He just has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to the chancellor and his close allies. I don't know the details, but apparently Osborne made life pretty difficult for a few members of his family from what I heard."

Was that supposed to make him feel sympathetic? "My father might be friends with the chancellor, but he has no input on how the later handles internal affairs. If your friend has any complaints, he might as well take it directly to him instead of bothering uninvolved parties."

The suggestion got a chuckle out of the other teenager. "That would be the sight! Can you imagine, the Iron and Blood chancellor, getting lectured by a a high school student! Damn, now I kind of want to see it happen." His laugh died down as he seemed to remember something. "By the way." He extended his hand. "Crow Armbrust, second year. Nice to meetcha."

Machias had a moment of hesitation before returning the handshake. "Oh, right. And I'm-"

"Machias Regnitz, I got that much."

The later could only sigh in resignation. The attention wasn't something he particularly looked for, especially when it mostly seemed to attract self-important aristocrats with a bone to pick. Fortunately this Crow Armbrust was of a different type, though that raised other questions.

"Forgive my rudeness, but as I said, trying day. Can I help you?"

"Straight to the point, eh? I don't blame you." If the older student was bothered by Machias abruptness, he showed no sign of it. "I just wanted to meet one of those infamous class VII members. You guys are quite the talk on campus, you know?"

That was news to Machias, though he supposed it made some sense. "Is that so?"

"Well of course. A brand new class gathering nobles and commoners? You bet that got the rumor mill turning." Crow smiled. "And the betting pools running." By his sly grin, Machias couldn't help but suspect his new companion may have played quite an active role in that last part. He certainly seemed like the type, at least.

"It was my understanding that money games were prohibited on campus," he answered tersely. "and one would think that Thors students would have better things to do than partake in idle gossip." He couldn't say he liked the idea of being talked about behind his back. His father's experiences taught him the hard way how much insidious baseless rumors could be. However Crow simply laughed his concerns away.

"Relax, it's just some harmless fun. Most people will have moved on in a couple of weeks. Though I heard that some first year nobles are pretty miffed you guys 'stole' Arseid and Albarea from them. Perhaps try to avoid the Hyarms kid, he's been quite vocal about that."

Machias almost choked. "If they want that insufferable jerk so much, they can _have_ him! I assure you, if transferring Jusis Albarea away was in my power, I would do it in a heartbeat."

How typical of him to cause him grief even indirectly. And 'Hyarms'? He never met that student, but he recognized the name of one of the four so-called 'great' noble houses when he heard it. It seemed that one was just as annoying and self-important as the specimen he was acquainted with. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

His senior didn't seem bothered by his outburst, instead giving him a sly smile. "Oh, so that's how it is, eh? They can have the guy back, but it's okay if the girl stay? Nice."

Machias bristled at the implication. "That's- that's not like it at all! Laura has been so far a perfectly respectable classmate, and I have no complaint about-"

"First name basis already, then?" Crow interrupted him with a playful whistle. "You're working fast, Regnitz."

"You-" Machias bit back a heated retort. He knew when he was being baited, and judging by his grin, the senior student seemed to have way too much fun with that. At least he didn't seem to mean anything by it – in fact, he was beginning to suspect this guy was like that with everyone. He took a few seconds to answer, his tone still somewhat terse. "I did not come here in order to date. I imagine our schedule will hardly leave time for such... frivolities."

"Hey now, don't be like that," Crow protested. "I mean, sure, studying is important, I guess. But those are the best years of our lives! We should enjoy them while we can, right?" He flashed me what he probably intended to be a winning smile. All Machias could think of was that the tirade made him sound like an old man bemoaning his lost youth. Especially as his smile faded, replaced by a defeated expression. "Beside, you don't have to deal with your closest friend stealing girls left and right from you before you can even make a move. Let me tell you, having to go all the way to Heimdallr in order to have a good time isn't good for self-esteem."

Machias blinked at the outrageous comment. "You left the campus and went to the capital just to meet girls?!" He was almost certain there was a rule somewhere forbidding students from doing exactly that.

Crow simply shrugged his outrage off. "Why not? It's only a twenty minutes train ride, no-one notices if you're gone for a few hours. You can meet people from all the imperial schools there, and brag about how you managed to get into Thors. Plus, a lot of places to get a drink there. Don't get me wrong, Kirsche's café has great food and all, but they're not too keen on letting us students live a little. Everyone needs to blow off steam once in a while, you know?"

Machias _did_ know, mostly because the urge of blowing some steam today was growing right now. He only met this Crow Armburst for five minutes, but he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about him. Needless to say, his mental image of him wasn't flattering.

"Fascinating," he managed to say in the blandest tone. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I need to go to the student union building. I suppose we'll see each other around."

Without waiting for an answer, Machias walked past the senior student, leaving the small courtyard behind. He was aware his abrupt departure would be considered rude by most standards, but he could only suffer so much nonsense in a day. Doing his best to tune the outside world out, he started walking down Thors' paved pathway, only to find Crow Armburst fall into step beside him.

"The student union, huh? Cool, I'll walk with you then."

Machias was certain the sound of his gritted teeth could be heard across the campus. Was this guy simply unable to take a hint? This was absolutely outrageous!

He took a few seconds to readjust his glasses, finding the familiar gesture helpful to keep his temper in check. "Was there a particular reason you wanted to talk, or did I simply look like an easy target?" At this point, maintaining even a semblance of politeness was beginning to be taxing.

"Heh, what can I say?" Armburst answered, waving a greeting at another student before turning back to Machias once more. "I'm curious about your class too. Want to make sure all my hard work last year paid off."

"How so? Leaving aside that it is difficult to imagine you working hard at all." Perhaps he could have kept that last part to himself. Then again, he was finding it hard to care right now.

"Harsh, Regnitz. I do work hard. Sometimes. When I'm motivated." even he sounded to only half-believe it. "But to make it short, me and a few friends were chosen to test that ARCUS gear last year. The damn things didn't work half the time, and used to give me a headache when they did, but I guess us playing around was enough for a higher-up to go with this class VII plan."

That gave Machias pause. He threw a glance toward the battle orbment safely resting at his belt, its metal casing shining in the evening sun. He had assumed he and his classmates were the first to test this technology out, but apparently they were actually carrying on a work started by others. "I see. I suppose I am grateful for your efforts then. Any tips?"

"Not really," Crow answered. "As I said, it was pretty finicky when I used it last year, but from what I hear, the Reinford guys used our test results to improve them this time around. Just... don't stress about it and let it do its thing? In my experience, the harder I focused on it working, the less results I got. Then again, that's how most things work out for me, so, you know." Well, there was a convenient excuse to procrastinate if he ever heard one.

"Oh, but if the thing's giving you trouble, go see George. Buddy of mine, also gave that ARCUS a whirl. You'll usually find him here," he pointed out at a small wooden shed they were currently passing by, its entrance almost hidden behind various crates. Compared to the massive stone architecture displayed by most buildings at Thors, the place didn't seem like much. "He's a bit of a tech wiz, and I bet he's the one around here who know those devices the most."

"I'll keep that in mind," Machias nodded. That at least could prove pretty useful down the line. So far they hadn't made any use of their ARCUS units since the old schoolhouse experience – their instructor claiming they'd have the perfect opportunity "later", and that it was "a surprise", remaining infuriatingly vague about it – but it seemed prudent to assume technical difficulties would occur sooner or later.

Finally, the pair reached the student union. The building housing the student's council locals, many school club activities, and most importantly the cafeteria was built in the same style as the main building, albeit at a smaller scale. Sturdy column to give the edifice an air of grandeur, large windows allowing the people inside to enjoy the daylight, and grey-blue tiles making up the roof. Thors hardly had the most inspired architecture, in Machias' unprofessional opinion, but he had to admit it was serviceable. Beside him, Crow let out a resigned sight.

"Well, time to face the music, I guess." The raised eyebrow of class VII's representative made him elaborate. "Have a meeting with the student council. Apparently, my winter assignment was just deemed 'unsatisfactory', and now they're already talking about giving me more work. The year just started! Can you believe it?"

Machias didn't hesitate for a second. "I can."

"Give me a break," Crow groaned. "And what about you, then? You don't seem like the type to be in Towa's bad book already."

The green-haired student readjusted his glasses. "If you're referring to student council president Herschel, I'm afraid I haven't met her yet. I just came to check on a few clubs before giving up on them altogether. So far, I can't say any managed to hold my attention." Machias wasn't particularly interested in most sport clubs – and especially not the riding club, given that Jusis apparently immediately joined that one – and his lack of artistic appreciation made the music club and art club of the main building non-starters. And the less was said about his cooking or his green thumb, the better. All in all, his options were limited, and he couldn't say he minded overly much; an extracurricular activity would probably just interfere with his studies anyway.

"Hm, I think the chess team are a bit short on hand this year, and are looking for fresh blood. You seem like the type who might do the part?"

Machias couldn't help but to scowl at Crow's remark. What, was that because he wear glasses? Such a shallow reasoning. Of course, what annoyed him the most was that he was right, he did play chess, and was not half-bad at it if he said so himself. Still, to join a club just for that? That seemed like a waste of time.

"I'm afraid I'm not interested in trying to rescue an understaffed club," he said, pushing the doors of the building open. "One would think Thors wouldn't lack players anyway."

"Well, the upper class chess club doesn't, true." The words made Machias stop dead in his tracks. "It's the lower class who's having trouble. But hey, if you're not interested, you're not interested. I suppose it's more of a noble game anyway."

The grey-haired senior had a cheshire grin plastered on his face, showing he knew exactly what he was doing right now. Machias didn't care. Crow now had his unmitigated attention.

"Tell me more."

* * *

 **Notes:** Alisa and Machias are a delight to write. They're always going full throttle, all the time, and it's great.

 **Next time:** Together, Laura and Fie spells... foreshadowing?


	6. Faraway clouds (Laura, Fie)

**Chapter 5: faraway clouds**  
 _"Enjoy today to the fullest, for you never know what tomorrow will bring"_ \- attributed to prince Olivert Reise Arnor, possibly apocryphal

* * *

Laura S. Arseid always prided herself for her willingness to meet any challenge head on. That attitude had served her well in her swordsmanship, but also in her daily life. Failure was not something to be feared, but an occasion to learn, even though it could be a harsh teacher. In the same way, unfamiliar experiences were to be seen as a prime opportunity to widen her horizons.

That was what she constantly repeated herself when she hesitantly grabbed a teacup, trying not to feel self-conscious about the multiple gazes fixated on her.

The invitation for an informal gathering between students from both years, sent by a few members of class I and II, should have come as no surprise. Such occurrences were customary among noble families, as a way to foster ties, and when possible, good relations with each other. Having a few second years of noble birth invite several junior girls to welcome them at Thors was but an extension of that idea. So here she was, at the top floor of the student union building, in the salons reserved to the upper class students, a last reminder of the time the school was a noble-only institution.

The place certainly gave a luxurious feel, from the imperial red silk curtains to the finely crafted wooden tables and chairs, each of them made in a pre-orbal revolution style, though the blue-haired swordswoman was unable to tell whether they were antiques or simply well-made replicas. The walls proudly displayed several coat-of-arm shields, the emblem of the imperial stallion and Thors horned lion surrounded by the symbols of Erebonia's main noble houses. A carpet displaying scenes from the Septian testaments and a couple of ceremonial armors standing in the corners of the room made for the rest of the decoration. Everywhere Laura looked, signs of the Empire's ancient history were on display, a celebration of ancient traditions, and through them, of the aristocratic class that had led the country through centuries. She couldn't help but wonder how much of that display was made in reaction to the rising of the commoner class as a driving force in the Empire's political life. Laura supposed she couldn't argue with the aesthetics, and it certainly made for a pleasant cadre. However that did little to assuage her awkwardness at being in this situation.

First was the fact that while a dozen girls were attending this meeting, it soon became apparent that she was to be the center of the attention. Her father, as a mere viscount, might have been of relatively minor rank among nobility, especially compared to some of the older families, yet his reputation as Erebonia's most famed blade carried some weight, and made his daughter an object of curiosity. As if that wasn't enough, she was the sole warer of a red jacket amidst a sea of white uniforms, making her really stand apart.

Which led to Laura's second problem: her utter unfamiliarity with such meetings.

Her father's domain, Legram, was on the fringes of Erebonia, and he never showed any particular interest in breaking that relative isolation and mingling more often with his peers. As such, Laura had had little opportunities to interact with other teenagers of her rank, aside from the occasional visitor. And while she didn't lack friends in her home town, be it among her father's students or the local population, her relations with them were usually a lot less official than the current gathering. Sword training classes weren't a place where lineage mattered, and in a place as small as Legram, familiarity went a long way to bridge the distance created by differences in social status. She had her fair share of admirers – mostly females, for some reason – but even with them it was always possible to exchange casual greetings or to go for a swim in lake Ebel.

Here, though, Laura felt as if the slightest movement she made was to be scrutinized, appraised and analyzed at a later date. She tried not to fiddle with her teacup handle, instead taking a sip of the beverage to give herself some semblance of composure. Still, hoping her discomfort had gone unnoticed was but a pipe dream.

"No need to be so tense. This meeting is simply to help us know each other better, and provide help if we can. You'd better save your stress for the next set of exams, don't you think?"

The comforting words came from the girl directly facing her across the table, a second-year student with piercing purple eyes and long-flowing blonde hair falling back below her shoulders. She had introduced herself earlier as Friedel, and had apparently been one of the instigators of this gathering. Laura offered a self-depreciating smile in return.

"Apologies. I'm afraid this is all rather new to me. I can't say there were many opportunities for social gatherings at home."

"I know exactly what you mean," answered another second-year, giving her a comprehensive look. "I spent all my childhood on the western coast, and then suddenly I'm at Thors surrounded by peers... it was exhausting at first!"

"You seem to have managed eventually, though?" Friedel gently teased.

"Eventually, yeah!" the other chestnut haired girl – Augusta, if Laura wasn't mistaken - replied. "But that wasn't easy, let me tell you. Anyway, the point is, there's no need to walk around eggshells here. There's no parent hovering above our shoulders so we don't bring dishonor to the family, and since none of us is from one of the Four, I think we can agree to say it doesn't matter if one is the daughter of a baron or a viscount, or whatever."

Laura couldn't quite suppress a chuckle, alongside a few other first years. That was awfully direct, but not unpleasant. It seemed the banter was enough to settle a few nerves around the table, which had probably been the intended effect.

"Speaking of the Four," another second-year, this time with grey-ish, almost green hair and blue eyes, interjected. "No-one thought to invite Angelica?"

"Of course not!" Augusta protested. "You know perfectly well how this meeting would have turned out to be if we did bring her. I'd rather have our juniors not be traumatized after only two weeks."

"Oh, she's not so bad," the other girl answered with a coy smile. "You have to admit, she _does_ make things interesting."

"Ugh, you're hopeless."

Well. Laura no idea who this Angelica was, but she certainly seemed like a handful. Still, with the room in a more relaxed mood, a few first years were now ready to join the conversation.

"I hear there's two members of the great houses among the first years this time around?" said a girl with orange-blonde hair and emerald eyes – Bridget, Laura recalled. "Hyarms and Albarea, right?"

Ferris, a class I student with flowing purple hair and amber eyes, let out a long sight. "Patrick, yes. He's... a handful. And I don't think he likes class VII very much. No offense intended," she quickly added while glancing at Laura.

"None taken," she was quick to answer. "And yes, Jusis Albarea is indeed one of my classmates. He seems quite respectful and hard-working, as far as I can tell. Though he does lock horns with Machias Regnitz a little too often."

Truth be told, she didn't know Jusis all that well yet. The Albarea scion had been courteous enough, but remained aloof, apparently finding little interest in social mingling. So far Laura had respected his boundaries, but she could admit being a little bit curious. Hopefully the two of them would have an opportunity to spar soon.

Right now however, the other noblewomen seemed more interested in the Albarea-Regnitz feud. "Yes, I imagine this might be difficult. Whose bright idea was it to make nobles and commoners mingle, anyway?" asked Ferris, a note of outrage in her voice.

"I think it's an interesting idea, though," protested Bridget, a small frown on her face. "Keeping the classes separate made sense a few decades ago, but maybe it'd be time to try something new?"

"But we're not just talking about any noble and any commoner, though," a third first year interrupted. "It's Albarea and Regnitz. Of course they'd be at each others throats! Right, Laura?"

The class VII representative only answered with a noncommital hum, while taking another sip of her tea. 'Of course', was it? She couldn't deny they had been at each others throats from day one, and it was true their respective families made a clash of opinions likely, but she found the idea that the two of them had been destined to hate each other rather sad.

"I suppose having together the son of a figurehead of the Noble Alliance and one from the chancellor's close circle was asking for trouble," Bridget admitted. "Is Regnitz treating you well, Laura? I hear he almost got in a fight with a second year from class II. It seems he really dislike us nobles, from what I hear."

Laura felt compelled to defend her absent classmate. "I really cannot complain about Machias Regnitz's actions. I won't pretend we are close friends, but he has been nothing but cordial in our few conversations."

It had been a pleasant surprise too. After his initial outburst toward the Albarea heir, she had braced herself for some hostility being thrown her way too. But while he had been a bit awkward in their conversations, he never got downright hostile, which was good enough for her. She didn't know what were the roots of his dislike for nobility, but it seemed he was at least willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Still, to think someone that closely linked to Osborne would be here..."

"Some are already talking about him starting a war with Calvard. Surely things won't go that far?"

"Then again, I hear that there are saboteurs in the country now. So who knows?"

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the conversation turned toward the Blood and Iron chancellor. It was hard to have a sustained exchange without him coming up at least once, these days. Reformist hero for some, bloodthirsty soon-to-become-tyrant for others, no man in Erebonia inspired so much admiration and hatred in equal measure. Giliath Osborne, from commoner to general to the Emperor's right-hand man. Known for his political savvy, his ruthlessness, his expansionist policies and his repeated conflicts with the heads of the four great houses, to the point that his so-called Reformist faction allowed his most staunch opponents to rally around the newly created 'noble alliance' to act as its counter, extolling a stricter adherence to the Empire's century-old traditions, according to them the only guarantee for its continued power and stability. Albeit the movement was far from having an unanimous support even among aristocratic families, it had become a powerful voice, and the heart of the opposition to the hated chancellor.

Yet Laura couldn't help but think they were the symptoms of something more: fear. All across Zemuria, nobility seemed in the process of becoming a relic of the past. The neighbouring kingdom of Liberl saw its aristocracy drastically diminish in importance, while Calvard, admittedly the only superpower able to rival Erebonia, had become a full-fledged republic. The Erebonian Empire was maybe the last country where nobility managed to maintain its predominance despite the societal changes brought by the orbal revolution, but how long could that last? Even for those who were willing to admit that reforms were sorely needed, the prospect of falling into irrelevance made many wary of changes, especially when they were pushed by a character as controversial as Osborne.

Laura wasn't particularly worried for herself of her family. They were knights before they were nobles, the Eisenritter that had followed the legendary Lianne Sandlot into battle during the War of the Lions, as she supported Dreichel Reise Arnor during the civil war, playing a major role in his final victory. While the death of the Lance Maiden led the Arseid family to inherit her lands, their most prized possession remained their sword style, which had basically become a staple in modern Erebonia's fencing. Even without a noble title, Laura was confident the Arseid school would endure.

But ultimately, the Arseid had been nobles for a mere two hundred and fifty years. For older lineages, sometimes tracing back to the Dark Ages, nobility had become an intrinsic part of their names. What would happen to those families in a world where aristocracy would weaken, or even vanish altogether? Many were too afraid to find out. And it was easier to blame it all on one man than to accept that maybe a page of Erebonia's history was turning.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Friedel knocking her spoon against her cup. "Must we really talk politics now? I know it's an almost unavoidable topic these days, but I was hoping for more light-hearted banter for this gathering."

The remark drew a chorus of approval around the table. Laura supposed that most of them had enough of those talks at home. Goddess, she could scarcely imagine what Jusis had to go through, given his family's involvement.

"For instance," Friedel continued, "given your family's history, am I right to hope that you might join our fencing club soon?"

Once more the focus of attention, Laura straightened a little. "Ah. I ended up going for the swimming club instead."

"Is that so?" Her senior kept a serene smile, but couldn't quite hide the note of disappointment in her tone. "Ah well. I suppose it was wrong of me to assume your interests would be dictated solely by family tradition."

The Arseid heiress shook her head. "I assure you, the path of the blade _is_ my life. Which is why I'm trying to widen my horizons a little. Father once told me, 'there are things about the sword we can only learn by stepping outside of its shadow'. I'm simply trying to put those words in practice."

Friedel nodded. "Advice given by the Radiant Blademaster is certainly something worth considering. It's too bad though, I was looking forward to your presence."

"Don't let her guilt-trip you," Augusta jumped in. "She'd have the whole school in her club if it was up to her. Aren't you pleased with the guys you got already?"

"Oh, very much so!" Friedel answered with a beaming smile. "We got some pretty lively first years this time around. In fact, that Patrick Hyarms you mentioned earlier already got into a fight with Alan. It's great to see people in such good spirits, don't you think?"

The other girls watched her as if she had grown a second head, though a few second years simply let out a resigned sigh. Yet somehow Laura felt like she could understand where her senior was coming from. Ideally, sparring should be done between people with no ill-will toward each other, yet the Arseid school student would be lying if she pretended like no quarrel had been settled with blows inside her father's hall of arms. And somehow, she often felt that the best way to get to know someone was to cross blades with them. Words could be deceiving, but the way someone fought was harder to fake.

Though exceptions existed, she reminded herself, the image of Fie Claussel flashing through her mind. The training bout they had a few days ago taught her remarkably little about the younger girl, and left the Arseid heiress a bit frustrated, as if someone had deprived her of an honest contest. It was a bit childish of Laura to think that way, but she nonetheless hoped she'd have another chance later.

Shaking her head, she joined the conversation once again. "I would be delighted to drop by one of these days. If you would have me."

Friedel still appeared to be the picture of serenity, but Laura could have sworn her eyes _shined_ at these words. "By all means, you are more than welcome."

Interesting. If what she suspected was right, she might have just found a kindred spirit. That alone would be enough to make this meeting worth it in her opinion. She was still thinking how to answer when they heard three short knocks on the door, right before Jusis Albarea entered the room, a somewhat disgruntled expression on his face.

"My apologies for disturbing you all. Instructor Valestein is requesting everyone in class VII near the old schoolhouse. I was told to get you, since we couldn't contact you via ARCUS."

That would explain his apparent annoyance. "Sorry, I turned it off for this gathering. I'll follow you right now."

A short round of goodbyes and apologies for her rushed departure later, she was walking down the stairs side-by-side with the Albarea heir.

"Is everyone already there?"

"Claussel is still missing," her blonde classmate answered. "Apparently this is a regular occurrence. Instructor Valestein went to get her, hopefully she'll have an easy time of it."

They left the student union, and started walking down the path leading to the woods in silence. Strangely enough, Laura felt as if Jusis was hesitant about something, and would rather remain quiet than potentially embarrass himself. For the first time, she wondered how much of his natural aloofness was actually intended as a way to protect himself. Eventually though, he seemed to find his words.

"So, how did that meeting go?"

Laura blinked at the seemingly random question. Where did that come from? "It went well enough, I suppose," she answered, leaving aside the fact she was interrupted just as it seemed she found someone with similar interests as her. "Why do you ask?"

Jusis shrugged. "Just idle curiosity, nothing more. Think nothing of it."

Except now Laura _was_ thinking of it. The nobleman didn't strike her as someone doing small talk. "Weren't you invited to a similar event?" she decided to try out. "I hear that more than a few students were eager to meet you."

Her companion simply scoffed. "Even if I had been invited, I most likely would have refused," he paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "I understand things might be different for you, but in my experience, people seeking me out rarely do without ulterior motives."

"That sounds lonely." Laura wasn't so naive as to think that her name never played a role in some people's initial interest toward her, but she thought herself lucky enough to say the friendships she formed in Legram were genuine. However, she imagined things might be different when one's name was Albarea.

"It is what it is. I never came to Thors to make friends anyway. But the less time spent around sycophants, the better. Even Regnitz, with his open scorn toward me, is better than that," he hesitated, apparently just now noticing his words. "Don't tell him I said that."

The Arseid heiress nodded, smiling. Despite his protests about not making friends, Jusis was in an unusual chatty mood, it seemed. She had to wonder just how much of his trademark aloofness was genuine, and how much was simply a shield.

"Perhaps you should give the people here a chance," she simply said. "They might surprise you."

"Perhaps," he answered in a somewhat doubtful tone. "Still, I see little point in those kind of social gatherings. Would you claim to have made any meaningful connection in so little time?"

Laura thought back about her time with the other noblewomen. Obviously she couldn't claim to have any deep understanding of the girls she talked with, and even claiming friendship so soon would be somewhat premature. Yet, as she remembered the fire in Friedel's eyes, she knew what her answer would be.

Laura smiled, just as they entered the clearing where the rest of class VII was waiting. "Yes, I believe I would make that claim."

* * *

Trista's pawn shop was something of an overlooked place. Most students had no need for it, instead gathering around the more prestigious stores on the central plaza like Le Sage boutique or Keynes bookstore, who were almost perpetually crammed with customers. Compared to that, the small rundown house on the outskirts of the town with barely a signboard was often neglected; in fact, most Thors students probably didn't even know it existed, and even among the locals, few were those with a need for it.

It had almost instantly become Fie Claussel's favourite place, and it was with an almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm that she pushed its doors open.

"Hey Micht. Got my order ?"

From across the counter, a gruff voice answered. "Tch, mind your manners, shortstuff. The least you could do is say hello after kicking my door down."

Fie rolled her eyes. "You know I love you too."

Micht, no last name given, was the owner and sole worker of the place, a sixty-something man with grey hair and eyes and a stubble giving him a perpetually unkempt look. Fie knew nothing of his past, and he wasn't the sharing type - something that she could definitely respect – but it wasn't hard to guess he had a colourful past. Some of things Fie had managed to get from him certainly weren't the kind of stuff an ordinary senior citizen of a small, peaceful town would have.

"Yeah, it just came in. Didn't have the time to assemble it yet, so you'll have to wait a few minutes."

"Not a problem," the silver-haired girl answered. "I can do it myself if you want."

"And then I have to explain to Sara how you blew yourself up?" Micht snorted. "Not happening. Wait here, it won't take long."

Fie shrugged. The lack of faith in her own skills was annoying – she had been taught very well on that front, thank you very much – but she didn't mind waiting here. Micht's shop was akin to a treasure trove, with new curiosities always showing up in its shelves. But first, she watched the older man opening up a small package, the unmistakable smell of gunpowder reaching her nose.

The alchemical mixture had fallen into disuse since the orbal revolution. Gunpowder weaponry was once believed to be the future of warfare, until orbments provided stronger, cleaner and more versatile devices, powering up a new generation of weapons that far outclassed anything that came before it. By now, orbal guns, tanks and planes were mass-produced all across Zemuria, while black powder was hard to come by due to the lack of demand. The sole exception to that disinterest, however, was the black market.

While orbal power sources were all but the monopoly of the few corporations with the technical know-how to produce them, it was possible for a well-read chemist to produce gunpowder of decent quality. The appeal of explosive devices whose origins were almost impossible to trace back wasn't lost on the continent's more unsavory groups. As a combat school student, Fie had of course her own battle orbment, and her gunswords were orbal-powered as well, but in her experience it never hurt to have backups. Plus, you never knew when a girl might want to blow a door open.

Moving to his workbench, Micht began to unpack every article. Grenades, plastic explosives, flashbangs... Cool, everything seemed to be there. Soon enough, the grizzled man began his work.

"Is it safe to do it in the room where you keep most of your stuff?" Fie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's that or in my bedroom," Micht grumbled while assembling a detonator. "I don't know if you noticed, but this house don't exactly have a lot of rooms."

"Maybe you should look for a better-paying job than selling weapons to little girls, then."

"Ah, ah. You're a riot."

Stepping aside, Fie bean to look across the room for interesting discoveries. There had been a telescope in the corner last time. That was pretty cool. Seems it was gone now, though. Pity.

"By the way," Micht called, "You better make those last. It's getting harder for my suppliers in Crossbell to send me their merchandises these days. You know how it is, with Calvard and Erebonia at each other's throats, and Crossbell right in the middle, they're tightening their borders."

Hm. The merchant-city of Crossbell was a hub for a lot of merchandises, legal or otherwise. With both Erebonia and Calvard eyeing the place like a piece of meat these days, only kept in check by each other, it made sense for the citizens there to be wary about weaponry leaving the country for foreign lands.

"Plus, now we got terrorists running around. I guess our good chancellor is pissing people off enough that they're willing to set bombs now."

That was news to Fie. "Terrorists?"

"Yeah, it has been kept on the down low so far, but apparently a couple of military depots got raided and bombed in early spring," Micht explained. "In protest of Osborne's policies, from what I hear. Up until now, the perpetrators only acted on the Empire's outskirts, so not many have heard of them, but the Railway Military Police is kicking up a storm going after them."

The class VII student simply hummed. What mattered to her is that she wasn't at risk of running low for the foreseeable future. Terrorists were of no particular concern to her as long as they stayed away from Tho- oh hey, was that a water clock? Where did Micht even find one of those?

"Also, some jaeger corps are moving into Erebonia, though nobody knows why," Fie's ears perked up. "No word on Zephyr though." She lost interest again.

For a few minutes, they both remained quiet, the silence only broken by Micht's work, or Fie rummaging around. She was playing with an armillary sphere when the shop owner spoke once more.

"By the way, how's school? You doing okay?"

"It's fine."

The laconic answer didn't seem to satisfy him. "Made any friends?"

"Don't know. Emma began to help me with my work, does that count?" Thinking back about the strongest impression left by her classmates, one episode seemed to stuck out. "Also, Laura hit me on the head."

The man grunted. "Knowing you, you probably deserved it."

Fie thought back about that day. "Yeah, I probably did," she eventually admitted.

Truth be told, Fie wasn't sure how to go about this whole 'friend' thing. Emma was nice, Elliot was adorable, Machias just gave the _best_ reactions when teased, Rean was weird but in probably a good kind of way, and she was pretty intrigued by Laura, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do with all that.

By most standards, the students of class VII weren't exactly your typical teenager. Some carried pretty big names in the Empire, and she could guess a few of them had some juicy secrets; she already found out Alisa's, in fact. How cute. Yet despite that, they all felt so... ordinary, compared to her.

She didn't mean that in bad way. Ordinary was good. Ordinary meant having a birthday, knowing how to make friends, and having a family that didn't disappear in the middle of the night with no reason.

Apparently, ordinary also meant 'not booby-trapping your dorm's door just in case', according to a slightly charred Sara. So now she wasn't doing that. Somehow that didn't make her feel more normal, only more stressed.

But the point was, she had no idea how to connect to her classmates other than by teasing them, which was a great way to put them on the defensive and avoid having to talk about herself. Deflection and avoidance, she had mastered. Hiding your true self had been a basic survival tactic back in the day, and despite Sara's assurance that this wasn't needed any more, Fie didn't want to take that risk. She was a coward at heart, after all. Maybe that's why her family dropped her without even a goodbye.

Some of her thoughts must have showed on her face, because Micht had paused in his work, looking at her instead with an expression she couldn't quite decipher. "Is it me or did you lose some weight? Are you eating properly? You're skinny enough as it is."

Fie sighed. "Of course." In fact, Thors' cuisine was probably the best she ever had, in quantity and quality. "I'm even attending cooking lessons just in case. Wanna see?"

She opened up her satchel before producing the meal she made yesterday, carefully wrapped in a towel. Micht looked at her work with obvious suspicion, his work momentarily forgotten.

"What even is that thing?"

"A cookie, obviously."

"Aidios above, this thing is hard as stone! How do you intend to even eat that?!"

"Eh, I figured I could always let it soak for a while," she shrugged. "If worst come to worst, I bet it can do decent damage if I chuck it hard enough at a monster, or something." She considered that her backup backup plan.

"And if its dumb enough, it might choke by trying to eat it," Micht grumbled, returning to his work. "You need to get better at this kind of stuff."

Fie huffed. She knew how to cook, she was just used to more basic recipes. Nothing particularly tasty or fancy, just enough to keep going when there wasn't anything else. Her first attempt at something more fancy was a work in progress, she could admit. Still, she hated wasting anything, be it food or potential weaponry. Though it was kind of worrying she still wasn't sure in which capacity her creation would be more useful.

Still, she was grateful for his concern. She just knew by now she couldn't take him for granted.

For the next few minutes, Fie rummaged through a pile of old books taking dust in a corner of the room, skimming through one at random. Huh, a steamy vampire novel. Ew.

"You're a bit young for that kind of read, pipsqueak," the shop owner called as he put away an assembled grenade and began working on the next one.

"I'm fifteen, not dumb," Fie retorted, making a point of flicking through a few more pages. Like this was anything new to her. Her old family might have done their best to keep their own intercourses away from her eyes and ears – mainly because the Boss would have killed them if they didn't – but she still saw things she couldn't unsee. Also spent more than one night kept awake by groans coming from nearby tents. Not a pleasant experience, that.

"Makes me think, apparently one of your classmates is into that."

Fie raised an eyebrow. "One of them came here?"

"Yeah, Ren, or something like that"

"Oh, Rean."

"Yeah, that's the one," Micht answered distractedly, still focusing on his craft. "Polite kid, unlike _some_."

The young girl huffed at the implication. "He's okay. A bit weird, but nice. What did he want?"

"Nothing in particular. I think he found this place on accident while running across town." With a loud click, he finished assembling another device. "Never saw someone that happy to find a book. Been looking everywhere for that one, apparently."

Huh. Random, but okay. Apparently Rean was really into reading. Or just into vampire smut. But hey, she wouldn't judge. Aloud.

 _Pft, as if, I'm definitely bringing that up next time I see him._

Several more minutes passed before a thought struck her. "By the way, do you have any grain in there?"

That made the older man pause from his task. "Grain?"

"Yeah," Fie spoke as if it was obvious. "For flowers."

"Of course I don't have any! Does this look like a damn gardening shop?" Micht protested. "Why do you even need those for?"

It wasn't like this place looked like somewhere one could find illegal explosive either, though. "I decided to join the gardening club, and they asked us to pick something up," she explained.

"You. In a gardening club," the shop-owner didn't bother to hide his scepticism. "What on earth gave you that idea?"

"Dunno," Fie shrugged the question away. "I just felt like it." Truth be told, she wasn't sure herself why she decided to pick that club, beside idle curiosity. But somehow watching the club captain Edel speaking with fire in her eyes of her passion made Fie curious. And Sara had seemed unusually happy when her student gave her the news, so that meant she must have done something right?

Then again, what Sara thought was a good idea tended to differ from what the rest of the world believed, so maybe not.

"Anyway, there _is_ a gardening shop in Trista, you know. You should probably go there for a change instead of relying on me for everything."

Ugh, more interactions with strangers. That seemed exhausting. She didn't comment on it though, instead spending the next minutes continuing the pawn shop's search, until Micht's satisfied exclamation told her he was finished. Soon enough, Fie was busy making the inventory of her new toys, while the older man was counting the money she gave him.

"Where did you even find the mira for this?" Micht asked her after confirming the payment.

"Sara got me a scholarship, apparently," she answered, strapping a flashbang to her upper leg. Thank Aidios for skirts being part of the school uniform, it made hiding items under them so easy. "Don't know how she did that."

"And does she know _how_ you're using that scholarship?"

"Heh, we have an agreement," Fie answered with a smug smile. "I can keep the stuff as long as I don't flash it right under her nose."

Micht pinched his nose. "Goddess above, this woman is the worst teacher ever."

"Hey now, that's a bit harsh," a new voice exclaimed. "I'm sure there are worse ones out there somewhere. Probably."

Speaking of the devil. Sara Valestein sauntered through the door, her trademark blue coat fluttering behind her. She let out a relieved sigh when she saw her student.

"Oh good, you're here. I think I was running out of places to look out for you. Would it kill you to turn on your ARCUS once in a while? They're _made_ to keep in touch!"

The fifteen-year old simply shrugged. "Yeah, not doing that. Last time, you woke me from my nap just to see if it was working right."

"It was just that one time, give it a rest!" Sara protested, before noticing the now empty metal boxes, the faint smell of gunpowder, and Micht putting away the mira coins Fie just paid him. "All right, what did you get this time?" she asked, a resigned expression on her face.

Fie didn't skip a beat. "Feminine products."

"Uh uh. Well I hope your 'feminine products' will at least be useful soon, class VII is having a little outing together," her instructor answered, before turning turning to the shop owner. "Sorry Micht, not staying this time. We're still on for tomorrow's night, right?"

"You bet we're still on," the man growled. "I'll have a few things to say about the way you take care of this girl."

"It's not me, it's her!" Sara protested, a betrayed expression on her face. "And has she been talking behind my back? Why, after all the things I've done for her!"

"Still in the room," Fie reminded them. "And don't worry, I spoke nothing but the truth."

"I didn't raise you to be this sarcastic, young lady!"

"You didn't raise me at all."

"Ah! See what I have to deal with, Micht?"

The old man simply shook his head, clearly unimpressed by their banter. "Whatever. Just get out of my shop."

The two women obeyed each of them giving their host a suspiciously similar lazy salute. _Great, Sara's rubbing on me_.

"So, where are we going?" the student asked as her teacher led her through the streets of Trista.

"That's a surprise!" Sara smiled in that childish way of her. Fie couldn't hold back a sigh.

"I suppose there's no time for a nap on the way?"

"Not a chance!"

It took them fifteen minutes to reach their intended destination, namely the old schoolhouse. That promised to be interesting at least, Fie thought. The rest of class VII was already there, and apparently waiting for a while, judging by the bored expressions that some of them sported. A few had even started a game of blades, playing the cards on the building doorstep. The current round was quickly forgotten when they took notice of the approaching pair.

"Alright, seems like we're finally all here!" Sara said, looking pleased with herself. "Now I suppose you're all wondering why you're here. I trust you remember this place?"

"You mean the place filled with monsters?" Rean answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Or the trap door you dropped us through?" Jusis added with a cold glare.

"The labyrinth where we almost died?" Elliot gulped.

"While you didn't even lift a finger when that monster almost tore us apart?" Machias managed to say through gritted teeth.

"Without even telling us we had a way to contact each other all along?" Alisa continued with a deceptively sweet smile.

"What, you're all still on about that?" Sara protested while giving her best puppy eye imitation. "Come on, didn't you have some good times? It was a precious bonding experience for all of you, from which was born an unbreakable friendship!"

Her declaration was met by a deafening silence. Fie thought back at the feud between Jusis and Machias, at the tensions between Alisa and Rean, or even her own solitary behavior. Yeah, unbreakable friendship wasn't really in the cards right now.

"Well, too bad," their teacher continued, not letting the lack of support get to her. "Because you're all going back in. Class VII, move out!"

As most of her comrades let out resigned groans, Fie couldn't help but smile. There was a lot of things she had to say about Sara, but she really could respect her teacher's dedication to a good punchline.

* * *

 **Notes:** Well, that will do for a part 1 of sort. The set-up was perhaps a bit long, and not a lot happened so far, but I feel it was important to establish the characters and begin to lay the foundations for their relationships with each other. Also, hinting at the plot, I guess. I'll take the occasion to reiterate my thanks to those who are following this, I hope you'll continue to have fun reading what I have in store next! And if you have suggestions that you feel might improve things, I'm all ears.

 **Next time:** terrorists, in my capital? It's more likely than you'd think.


End file.
